Shattered Night, Shivering Stars
by midnightdimunds
Summary: Hermione loves Ron. But what happens when she unkowingly drinks a love potion and falls for Draco and he falls in love with her for real? Plus, a revelation which turns sum1s life upsidedown. A tale of courage, cursed lives, sacrifice, and unrequited love
1. Dangerous Flight

**Disclaimer**: In a perfect world, I'd be the one with the gorgeous castle in Scotland, millions of dollars, and be the one of the most beloved authors of the current times. Alas, I am not. Therefore, everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made out of this (the only payment I ask for, which is far better than money, is reviews!!!!) I am merely borrowing her characters, and blatantly twisting them to my own devices, as all us fanfic writers love to do. I promise I'll bring them back not too disheveled, except for Draco, I'm not responsible for what happens to him when I'm alone with him, grins evilly .

**Summary**: Hermione loves Ron and he loves her. But what happens when she unknowingly drinks a love potion and falls for Draco, who _really_ falls in love with her? And one of the characters learns something about his/her past which changes his/her life drastically. Can the Gryffindor trio survive this and unite against an ever-rising Voldemort? A tale of angst, courage, cursed lives, sacrifices, but most of all, unrequited love.

**A/N:** In my story Harry and the gang are in their seventh year, but when I started writing this story it was before the fifth book came out, so if there are any contradictions to what happens in the fifth and sixth books, I apologize. Most should be pretty minor, but if you find any that are especially annoying, let me know and I'll try to change them. The only exception would be everything regarding Dumbledore that happened in the sixth book. I am afraid that I need to keep that OC part in my story, because Dumbledore plays an important role in this fic.

**Chapter One: Dangerous Flight**

The stars were certainly beautiful that night. They glinted, half hidden by the feathery gray clouds which had a stormy translucence as the moonlight shone through them. A cool breeze lightly scented with evergreen trees wafted through the open window, ruffling Hermione's curls, whispering to her, beckoning her.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, concentrating every particle of her being on what she was about to do. If anyone had been watching her in her room that night, they would have seen a witch one moment, and then after a cloud of sparkling dust, gorgeous blue feathers shimmering in the candlelight. Hermione Granger had become the first Animagus to turn into a phoenix. The mere fact that she had the courage to become an unregistered Animagus at all surprised her at first. But with all the ominous warnings of Voldemort's uprising, she believed that it would be best if she could turn into an animal and sneak out of the castle to gather information. And it would be best if no one knew about it, not even the boys. Even Ron would disapprove of her becoming a spy. For months she read every possible written text on the subject. Then when she finally attained enough concentration to transform her entire body, she was even more astonished to find out she had turned into a phoenix. Although she obviously couldn't live through fire, (at least she wasn't brave enough to test it), she was quite intelligent, very loyal and was able to take on huge burdens onto herself, whether it was schoolwork or her secret pledge to protect Harry and Ron and everything she loved from Voldemort. These were all characteristic of a phoenix. Of course her plans as a spy were somewhat hindered, as a phoenix is quite a noticeable creature, so she contented herself with wandering in the Forest sometimes, communicating with centaurs and unicorns. They didn't disappoint her, though. Eventually the creatures sensed she wasn't wholly phoenix, but they respected her all the same and told her about their increasing feelings of foreboding. But besides that, she loved flying through the Forest at night, feeling independent and even slightly rebellious; sometimes she needed to get away from her world of rules and obedience and books. Actually feeling the magic run through her veins was a million times better than merely reading about it.

She perched herself against the window, her claws scraping the wooden frame. And she simply let herself go, surrendering to the air. Soon she was soaring through the trees. As she silently flapped her wings, she was reminded of the first time she flew. The feeling of pure, unadulterated exhilaration and freedom filled her soul. She felt the wind caressing her whole body, as she felt lighter than the feathers covering it. She understood why Harry loved Quidditch so much. Flight seemed to have that amazing affect of awakening every nerve of the body, as if she had never felt properly alive before.

* * *

That evening, while the rest of his house was asleep, Draco Malfoy stood outside his dormitory window. The cool evening breeze was playing with the platinum tips of his hair, giving a pink tinge to his face, pale and still as porcelain. His mind was too preoccupied to gaze at the stars, though. The time was coming: he could see the signs everywhere. Muggle attacks, high-profile wizards and witches acting unusually (the handiwork of the Imperius Curse, no doubt), and right after his receiving that bloody letter from his father that morning, he heard about the break-in at Azkaban. Even though he hadn't won yet, Voldemort was sure as hell trying. And worst of all, he finally tried to get his daughter and judging from the rumors he was hearing, she really did have amazing powers. Even though this worried him, it didn't surprise him. His father had been informing him that the Dark Lord was planning something "more terrible than ever before" this year. That meant that the time was coming when he, Draco, would have to 'prove' himself. He would finally have to outwardly say whether or not he was on the Dark Side, so his Death Eater initiations would begin. He internally cringed at the thought. 

Draco hadn't fully made up his mind to be a Death-Eater, though. The idea of spending his life constantly in fear and danger, doing unspeakable things to people, only to grovel to someone else while they only gained in power didn't really appeal to him. But he had to give some sort of answer to the letter he had received that day. He moved to his desk and took out a sheet of his stationary, dipped his long, black quill into an ink bottle, and wrote:

Father,

I feel slightly insulted that you even doubted that I wouldn't be up to this. It would be a great honor -and pleasure- to aid in the plan. No doubt you know about Azkaban. As for Potter, I have come up with a plan to take care of him. It is so brilliant, it might even surprise you. I will hit him where it hurts most. Do not worry about the family honor, trust me.

D.M.

Draco gave a faint, yet long whistle and soon his eagle owl flew to the window. He tied the letter to its foot and sent him away, but he stayed at the windowsill. He liked the silence of the night and the clear air. It was good for thinking.

He would have his work cut out for him, though. He hadn't worked out his plan fully yet, but he thought saying it would impress his father. Suddenly he felt a ripple of disdain. His father…he was so involved with the family honor, he didn't realize he was degrading it. His father's servility to Voldemort was disgusting. On top of that, his job of torturing others was the most cowardly one. It involved no intelligence or danger, just mindless cruelty needed from someone with no emotions. Nobody actually respected his father or his family. They either hated them or feared them, or both. But Draco wanted to change all that…

He continued to stare out the window and he saw a strange figure fluttering from the castle toward the Forbidden Forest. It looked like it came from the window next to him. He only knew too well whose window that was. He had been declared Head Boy that year, and Hermione Granger was Head Girl. He thoroughly enjoyed finally having his own room at school, even at the expense of sleeping in a room adjacent to one containing a Mudblood. At least it didn't leak here as it tended to do in the dungeons. Every year the Slytherins would complain about it, every year it was supposed to be "fixed," only to start leaking even worse after a few weeks. He mused that it must have been a private joke of Dumbledore's to indirectly get back at the Slytherins.

When he saw a strange figure flying out the window, he leaned out to get a better view, keen on finding something suspicious on Granger. Whatever it was, it was far too big to be an owl, and it didn't just fly away into the distance as if it was delivering a message; it flew straight into the forest.

He knew someone had been in her room; he had heard the window open. A grin began spreading across his face. Maybe he'd surprise her with a little visit right at the time when she was doing something suspicious.

He locked his door, and took a few steps in the hallway to hers. He knocked a few times and casually stood there with his hands in his pockets, grinning wickedly. A few seconds passed, but no answer. He knocked again. Nothing. He was losing his patience, and thought maybe his surprise should be more of a nasty shock; he pulled out his wand and said, "_Alohomora_!"

The door opened, but the room was completely empty. He walked inside and examined it a bit. Everything was quite neat, as wasn't surprising, except for the huge stacks of endless books on and around her desk. Everything was normal, except there was nobody; and he was positive he heard noises of books being dropped and he heard her window open minutes before. Then something dawned on him. Could she have somehow _turned _herself into that flying animal? She was definitely not allowed to do something like that. This was getting interesting; perhaps some more spying was in order. It was a good thing he had a secret passageway in his room that led straight into the Forbidden Forest.

* * *

Harry woke up, yelling with pain. His head was throbbing like never before. The whirling blurry images he saw of the room without his glasses added to his confusion. He blindly reached out for his glasses, and put them on, the pain not subsiding. He saw Ron's worried face seemingly out of nowhere. 

"What's wrong, mate? Is your scar hurting?" he asked. Harry could hear Neville's and Seamus's voices, too. But all he could feel, all he could see was pain, and somehow… Hermione. He grabbed his forehead and moaned.

"It's never hurt like this before," he gasped, "only if I'm steps away from Voldemort."

"My God, Harry, you don't think…"

"Hermione," was all Harry could say to interrupt Ron. All he remembered from his dream, although it was quite vivid, was Hermione in her room, right before the pain took over.

Ron somehow felt that she was in grave danger.

"Harry, can you come with me and check on her?" But he couldn't even answer; his eyes were screwed up in pain. Ron continued, "Alright, you blokes stay here with him, I'm going to check on her," he said.

"Are you crazy? Filch will see you and hang you by your toes!" Seamus cried.

"And Ron, what if…what if Harry's right, and you do meet…_him_!" Neville cried, even more terrified than any of them.

"If Harry's right, then I there's no chance in bloody hell I'm _not _going," Ron had utter determination in his voice.

"Nah, Harry, he's just using your suffering to have a late-night rendezvous with Hermione so he can snog her all night," Seamus said, batting his eyes and clenching his hands together, looking falsely romantic.

"I'm glad you guys find the fact that I'm in so much pain so hilarious," Harry grumbled through his clenched hands over his face.

"Shut up, you great prat," Ron said to Seamus, "I'm going to see if she's alright. If she is, then I'll snog her," he said, smiling. " Besides, Filch wouldn't catch me in a million years."

"Why not?" Neville asked.

"Because, I have my ways," Ron smiled. He grabbed Harry's robes from his bed, which conveniently held the Invisibility cloak, and went out the door.

* * *

A/N: gasp! Why is Harry having pains in his scar? What's out in the Forbidden Forest And what happens when Draco follows Hermione there? Don't we all love unexpected meetings in the dark? (wink-wink). I hope u guys liked this first chapter. If u did, review!!! I've already written a lot of the scenes of these first few chapters, so expect updates pretty frequently (hopefully), and they'll be faster if I see a lot of people r eager to read this story. 

Meanwhile, don't forget to review. All those who do will get emails whenever I update, and lots of schnoogles (hugs and kisses!!) I also personally respond to all questions and comments of my reviewers.


	2. First Touch, First Kiss

A/N: Wow!! I'm like AMAZED at all the feedback, this chapter has done better than any chapter ive written before!! *Jumps for joy*

First I'd like to thank all those who reviewed: JeanB: I'm glad u like the story. I love phoenixes as well. Did you know that mythologically, only one was supposed to exist at a time? And that they would burn every 500 years? In the hp books, this is seems different, so I'm going by canon (by the books). I thought it would be nice to have Hermione turn into an animal, cause she IS so smart and all, and what better than a phoenix!

Clover: here is ur update, the second in two days, fast enough for u?? lol, thank u for being so excited with this story

 Cartliliel : Ron and Harry will play very, very important parts in the story. How can u not include everyone's favorite Gryffindor hunks? lol

 Mystic Queen: I hope u will be raising ur eyebrows a lot throughout this story

Twisted Angel: Thank you for reading and im glad u liked the beginning of the story

 and ashes of roses, my bestest buddy (u didn't hafta read, but u still did, l luv ya girl, mwah*)

To all of you, thank you so, so very much for reading. I know it was only the first chapter so there wasn't much romance, but that will change very very soon, hehe. The description of Draco in this one is for all u who r (like me) so infatuated with him. * sigh*

Oh, and one more note: As soon as I get my poetry book back, the next chapters will be superseded by one of my favorite poems, which of course, have a lot to do with the story itself. But we just have to make do for only my writing so far. (hope its good enough!)

**Chapter Two: First Touch, First Kiss**

Ron sneaked up the stairs as quickly as possible to Hermione's dormitory, trying not to make any noise, despite the groaning of the stairs, as if in complaint. Then Ron, being Ron, tripped over the Invisibilty Cloak and fell on the stairs with a loud crash. He yelled out a series of words which would have made Hermione give him one of her disapproving looks that she seemed to reserve only for him. She always looked so adorable when she was upset, and he loved how her cheeks would go red. He'd especially love staring at her when they would stay up late studying together. She'd tie up her wild hair in a bun, but tiny strands of it would still fall on the sides of her face in delicate little brown curls. What he wouldn't do to touch one of them, then to trace a finger down one of her soft cheeks… 'There I go again,' he thought to himself. 'Hermione…all she probably thought was that he was a dumb, lazy, clumsy, insensitive prat who had a big appetite. He deeply regretted being such a pig sometimes in front of her. He couldn't help it if he couldn't catch up with the rate he had been growing. Yes, he concluded sadly, she probably has no feelings for me at all. She could be with bloody Victor Krum, who was a world-famous Quidditch Seeker. He was also three years older, acting as a spy on Voldemort's followers and was very nice and affectionate to her. How could he possibly compete with that? If she didn't like Victor, there was still Harry. He was famous, too, and was a damn good Seeker himself. But he's also brave and virtuous, which is something she admires so much. Hermione is a very smart girl. That's why there's no chance in hell she'd ever pick me.' 

He reached her door, but didn't take off the cloak. He didn't know exactly what was behind the door, and he put off thinking about it so he wouldn't become afraid. Harry wasn't with him, for the first time. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No answer. Hopefully, she was sleeping and didn't hear him. He opened the door with a spell, and entered the room. It was empty. Ron threw off the cloak. "Hermione! Can you hear me?" he yelled, although he thought it was stupid, because she wasn't there. He looked everywhere, in her closets, under her bed, in her private bathroom. Where was she? There were no signs of a struggle. No broken glass or anything. He looked outside the open window, but couldn't see anything. He decided to put on the cloak and wait…

            _________________________________________

Hermione fluttered onto a stray branch on a laurel tree. There was something unusual about the forest, and what frustrated and unsettled her was she couldn't exactly figure out what. But she felt an invisible thread of something ominous coming from a path in the forest which she rarely took (for one thing, she saw once werewolf tracks there, and mused if they might even had been Lupin's, a permanent scar in the road of all his pain). But this time she decided to fly that way. She wasn't exactly sure why, just that an invisible magnetic force was taking her there almost against her will. Unfortunately, the surroundings of that road were much darker, and she had no idea where she was going. Then she saw a circle of yellow light, and instinctively flew to it. But, before she realized it, she hit something solid, which gave out a painful, "Oof!" and then muttered, "What the devil…?"

            After the collision, Hermione lay on the floor, her wings spread wide. "What's there?" the voice cried. The circle of light was coming from his wand, and the light illuminated a pale face and steely gray eyes. 

            "A bird? A phoenix!" Draco cried. For a wild moment he thought somebody had stabbed him, but then he had realized that his attacker had feathers and the sharp object that jabbed his shoulder was a beak. Hermione tasted blood. 'Of all the people to bump into!' She thought. 'At least I injured the prat. I wonder what he's doing. Looking for trouble, no doubt'. 

            When he saw what had hit him, Draco walked toward Hermione, and she half expected him to jinx her; but he gently touched her as he said, "Are you okay, little bird? Why were you flying in such a fright? What's out there?" Hermione had never seen Draco act so tenderly before, so she just stood glued to her spot in astonishment. 

After eyeing her for some time, Draco continued, "You phoenixes have healing powers, don't you?" Hermione just looked at him. "Would you mind healing this for me? You have quite a sharp beak, you do," Draco grinned. "C'mon," he coaxed, stroking her head slowly. This was something Hermione would never get to experience in regular circumstances. Hermione closed her eyes in pleasure. His touch was so soft… 'Stop it!" she cried, internally scolding herself. 'What's wrong with you, Hermione! This is ferret boy. If he knew it was you, he'd be flinging insults'. She moved away from his slender fingers. 

"All right, I guess I'll have to see what happened for myself." Draco put his wand down, and its light flickered onto the grass. He took off his robe and his sweater and was beginning to unbutton his shirt, which had a crimson stain on his left shoulder. Then a thought flashed through Hermione's brain. If he was a Death-Eater, which her and the gang were suspecting for a long time, he would have a Dark Mark  on his fore-arm! This would be the perfect chance to check. Draco was examining his cut, and despite the bloody shoulder, Hermione couldn't help but notice that he was so…gorgeous. His fair skin was nearly flawless, and he had a tall, lean build. Hermione coyly wondered to herself if he worked out or took a potion, as she couldn't help but stare at his toned arms. Because of his fall, the long strands of his flaxen, white-blond hair had fallen across his face, outlining his chiseled profile and long neck. His eyes were the color of a misty, foggy, gray ocean right before dawn. She was battling inner urges to practically jump on him. Hermione marveled why she never noticed this before. Oh ya, that's right. She hadn't because of what he had done to her, Harry, Ron and Hagrid over the years. Wait…What had he done again exactly? She couldn't quite remember because she was so preoccupied with staring at him in a cloudy trance with a silly grin plastered on her face.  Then another voice in her head appeared and reprimanded her harshly. 'Will you listen to yourself? He's an arrogant git, remember?! You're acting like a foolish little girl with a crush!' Then, she realized, horrified, that she felt very similar things when seeing Ron! Damn hormones.

Hermione regained her senses enough to examine his arm. There was no mark on it. Not yet, anyway. Draco finally spoke, after realizing that she had been gazing at him the whole time. "Are you sure you don't want to help me?" he said with a smile. Did she? The thought of healing anyone with her tears actually frightened her a bit. But she was even more terrified of getting even closer to Draco. He was still looking, washing her over with that fathomless gray stare. He wrinkled an eyebrow and said quietly, "You have such pretty brown eyes," he said, "I wonder why they look so familiar," he muttered more to himself than to her. At this Hermione's blood froze. Her eyes! She wanted to leave before he could pinpoint exactly _where he had seen them before. She immediately regained her senses and flew away._

Draco groaned as he finished cleaning himself with a handkerchief he had taken out of his pocket. It was quite an expensive silk one at that. Draco laughed to himself when he imagined his mother's reaction if she saw what he had done to her ancestral handkerchief. He would use a stain removing charm on it later. He wondered if he had just had a close encounter with whatever had flown out of Hermione's window. The first thing he had noticed about it was its eyes— brown and glossy, like the bark of a tree incased in glass. Eyes that had had a certain spark of intelligence, loyalty, and warmth. He was beyond a doubt now who it was he had met.  

Then a bloodcurdling voice made him start. "Now look what you've done to your mother's silk handkerchief, boy." 

Lucius Malfoy was standing above him, a smirk stretching his lips. His pale face seemed to almost float in air as his ink black cloak faded with the shadows and darkness of the forest. Next to him stood another figure, also cloaked, and with a hood covering its head, not allowing a face to be seen.

            ________________________________________

With every passing minute, Ron was getting more anxious. Where was Hermione? He couldn't stay here, doing nothing. Soon Harry might even come over here. He couldn't let TWO friends be in danger. He looked out the window and tried to remember a charm which wouldn't kill him in a fall. Then he saw a shadow move across the sky, coming towards the window. He swiftly moved away from the window and put on the Invisibility cloak, trying not to breathe too loudly.

            The moment before Hermione reached her room, she realized that she had let Draco see what direction she was flying in. What if he had noticed? What if he told somebody? The prospect made her heart beat furiously in terror, as if it wanted to explode out of her chest. She tried not to make too much noise.

            The shadow entered the room, and through the moonlight, Ron was finally able to see it clearly. It was a beautiful bird, a phoenix. It flapped its elegant wings and landed on the floor. Through a cloud of sparkling dust, Ron saw that it was changing. A moment later, he was astonished to see Hermione. He felt his  anger rising. She was probably putting herself in horrible danger. Why hadn't she told anybody? Why hadn't she told _him? In his rage he threw off his cloak and yelled, "Hermione, what did you think you were doing?" Already shaken by all that she had seen, (and felt), Hermione was already high strung. When she heard an angry voice come out of nowhere, she was so stunned that she screamed and tears spilled in her fright._

            Ron's anger immediately disappeared. He walked in front of her, and said comfortingly, "Herm, no, its me, everything's fine. Calm down." He held her shoulders gently and sat her down on her bed.  She was breathing heavily and sniffling. She knew would have to a lot of explaining, but a part of her was glad to see Ron, mainly because she could reassure her feelings for him after the dreamlike image of Draco…

            "Where were you?  How did you…did you…" Ron's  astonishment still hadn't left.

            "I know I shouldn't have kept this from you guys, but-"

            "What were you doing? You weren't spying on anyone, were you? Out at this time of night, in the forest, no less! What if you were seen?"

            "That's exactly why I didn't tell you guys. You're beginning to sound exactly like me, Ron," she said, smiling through her tears, "I can't stand here, knowing I can do more.  Everything's okay. I'm not helpless, I can take care of myself, you know, as much as you or Harry."

            "I just care about you, Herm, I don't want you to get hurt, I'm your best friend," Ron said. He looked so cute, all worrying about her. That's why she always tried to frustrate him. But this time a wave of despondency came over her at what she said. She was silent for a while, but then brought her face, closer to his, and took his warm hands in hers. She was close enough to see every one of his freckles. She had them practically memorized by now. His face was comforting in its familiarity. Here was a boy (who had grown into a tall, engaging young man) she had known since childhood, one who genuinely cared for her. She had gone through a lot  with him. But she hadn't gone through the one thing she was craving with all her heart. He was looking at her intently.

            She whispered almost inaudibly, but she had all her concentration in it. "Just…as a…friend?" 

            Ron was taken aback. Despite the darkness, she could see his ears turning crimson. Heat was radiating through his hands. His voice almost broke, which was almost comical, in an adorable way. "What…what do you… mean?"

            "You know what I mean, Ron. I just need a straight answer, so I can stop tormenting myself."

            "Well, I mean, do you, do you…" Ron was sputtering incoherently.

            "Yes." Hermione's answer was so swift she surprised herself.

            Ron couldn't speak at all now. What she had told him had hit him like a raging hippogriff. Was he dreaming? Was she confessing what he thought she was? He couldn't do anything but sit there, stupidly looking at her.

            Ron's silence was almost crushing Hermione. Had she made an enormous mistake?

"Ron, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Apparently you don't'… Oh my God, nothing's going to be the same, is it?"

            Ron looked at her curiously, but then grinned and said, "No."

            Before she knew it, she was feeling Ron's lips against hers. His hands moved away from her grasp and touched her face. Hermione was thrown into a sea of emotions, all ebbing from her heart. Everything that had been locked up, all her secrets, her fears, were all flowing and being washed away by that kiss. All she knew, all that was important to her at that time were his lips. At first she was trembling, not being able to believe if it were all true, but then she moved her hands to the back of his head, and opened her mouth, kissing him deeper. She moved his other arm to her waist. Ron ran his fingers through her hair, wanting to get lost in her wild curls. 'My God, she's not slapping me,' he thought, 'she's kissing me back'. He broke away,  tenderly kissing her neck. His warm lips were sending a million sensations down her body. She gasped and her breathing became erratic. She rubbed her nose gently against his neck, breathing in deeply his boyish scent of cologne and soap. She wanted to taste every part of him, to kiss every freckle… Her arms around his lanky, lean form were grasping him close to her, as if she was afraid to let go, because if she did, she would wake up, and this sublime dream would disappear…

                        _______________________________________

A/N: I totally wish my first kiss would end up like that. So you thought Hermione and Ron were already together? Nooooo, not here. But it looks like they just did. I knew you guys are all so impatient to see some romance, so here it is. A major theme in this story will be who Hermione really loves. What do u think, after this chapter??? Hope u liked it, tell me what u think!! If the amount of reviews continues this way, expect updates every other day. ( Altho I still have to write most of the next chapter, so give me a few days for this one.)  Schnoogles to all my readers!!


	3. False Identity

**A/N**: I am just totally speechless at the number of reviews. Thank you thank you!!!! And because I myself absolutely love it when people specifically thank readers, I'm doing the same. Here goes:

**Ashes of Roses**: Wow, thank you for the amazing review. The title of this story comes from a Spanish poem. Even in translation, its beautiful. Sigh* wish I knew Spanish to read it in its original form.  P.S.I had already written these two chapters from before, so I could update so soon. Yes, D/Herm can be VERY interesting, because with Ron, she's kinda expected to be with him, you know? There's no scandal in _that_, lol. But with Draco, ahhh, the lovely complications…

Yes, I will continue my other fic, by all means!!! I have even more amazing ideas for that one!! Hope ur fic is coming along great.

**DazzlinAngel55**: Thanks, here's the post!

**ErinWrites**: Thank u for the emails!! Keep writing ur story, hope my feedback helped.

**NavyConverse:** I'm glad u liked the r/hr part, and I'm sooooo happy u appreciated the way I described Herm's eyes. Its one of my fav parts in that chapter. I read ur profile, I love Cosmo from fairly oddparents!!!!! "It's a _girl nickel!"_

**Clover**: Hermione will be doing a lot of standing out in this story, lol. 

**Pandora**: Glad u like the suspense. I love it myself (I can actually be pretty nasty with cliffhangers, Lol)

**D/H fanatic**: I wrote it, I wrote it, I wrote it!!! And you ALL will get emails from me when I update (if u leave any addresses)

**Krysty Wroth**: How can u not like Ron?? I think he's adorable. Its ok. I know soo many of u r anxiously waiting for some D/H scenes. Don't worry, I won't disappoint u!! P.S. Hermione will be breaking a lot of * cough * written and unwritten rules in this story, despite herself.

**Cartiliel**: Thank u for seeing the cute side of r/h. You will be seeing some more of Lucius in future chapters, and when I'm done, u'll absolutely _despise him lol. (we all love hating him, don't we??)_

One last note: Read this poem in the context of the last chapter.

**The Eternal Three                 **

                                                _There are two men in the world, who_

_                                                Are crossing my path I see,_

_                                                And one is the man I love,_

_                                                The other's in love with me._

_                                                And one exists in the nightly dreams_

_                                                Of my somber soul evermore,_

_                                                The other stands at the door of my heart_

_                                                But I will not open the door._

_                                                And one once gave me a vernal breath_

_                                                Of happenings squandered-- alack!_

_                                                The other gave me his whole, long life_

_                                                And never got an hour back._

_                                                And one lives hot in the song of my blood_

_                                                Where love is pure, unbound—_

_                                                The other is one with the humdrum day_

_                                                Where all our dreams are drowned._

_                                                Between these two every woman stands,_

_                                                In love, beloved, and white—_

_                                                And once every hundred years it happens_

_                                                That both in one unite.                        _

_                                                Tove Ditlevsen                                    _

                                                **Chapter Three: False Identity**

            "You must be careful, Draco. That pure blood of yours is too valuable to be spilt just anywhere," Lucius said silkily. He let out his gloved hand to help his son up from the ground, but Draco very obviously refused it and got up on his own.

            Suddenly the cloaked figure spoke, in a voice that would send shivers down the back of the bravest man. "Listen to your father, young one. The Malfoys have been experts in spilling blood for centuries."

            He stared at the figure, but did not say anything; he _could_ not, even if he wanted to. He knew exactly who he was standing next to. He just hope his heart racing wouldn't be too obvious.

            "What happened, boy?" Lucius asked, eyeing his wound. 

            "I dunno, I got attacked by some sort of…bird," he said trying not to sound evasive. 

            The cloaked figure shot up its head. "What kind of bird?"

            Draco shifted his heels. "Well it just came and flew away, I didn't get a good look at it, you know. Must've been a hawk, or an owl."

            Lucius narrowed his eyes, but smirked. "Strange. You're much too big for a mouse." Draco pursed his lips and gave him a petulant stare. 

            "And that bird was much too big for an owl," the cloaked figure said. 

            Draco tried not looking at him. Instead, he looked at his father. "Well, you said keep your eye out for anything suspicious. Well, that was exactly what I was doing."

            "Well, Lucius, your son here seems to have something that not even some of my best Death-Eaters have had—dumb luck. He has unwittingly walked right to us and saved us a lot of trouble."

            Draco gulped. Had they received his letter so soon? Were they perhaps waiting for him near the school until they received it? Did it even matter to them whether he had agreed to help them or not?

            Lucius held out his cane to Draco. "It's a Portkey. We need to be transported somewhere else, before Dumbledore senses the Dark Lord's presence here."

                                    _____________________________________

            Harry was finally able to open his eyes. The pain stopped just as suddenly as it had came. Neville and Seamus, who had seemed to be too frightened to touch him, now came to his side.

            "You all right now, Harry?" Seamus asked.

            "Yeah," he gasped, as he rubbed his forehead with the back of his sleeve. He took off his foggy glasses and wiped them on his nightshirt. 

            "I wonder where Ron is. They've been gone a long time," Neville asked wondered worriedly. At this realization Harry bent his head down and ran his fingers through his already thoroughly mussed hair, and gave a long exhale of breath.

            "I've got to go look for him," he said.

            "Oh Harry, why do you always have to go on trying to be a hero? Let Ron have his go for once. I'm sure he's alright. I wouldn't go to Hermione's room, if I were you," Seamus said.

            "Why not? They might be in danger!" Harry cried in frustration.

            "I think if you go, you'll be….interrupting something, if you know what I mean," Seamus said with a wink. Harry laughed.

            "Please, Seamus. I've known Hermione and Ron for seven years, and if anything were to happen between them it would have already happened by now." But then, Harry realized with a shock, that Ron HAD confessed to him that he liked her. He sank into a thoughtful position, with a bit of a smirk on his face.

            "See? Aren't I right?" Seamus said. 

            "Don't listen to him, Harry! You don't know that for sure!" Neville said.

            "I'll take my chances this time, Neville," Harry said with a smile, "Let's all get back to bed. He had an instinctive feeling that somehow Ron didn't need his help this time….

                                    _____________________________

            Much to Hermione's dismay, Ron had stopped kissing her. She was still content with him holding her, though, her head resting on his shoulder. Ron was amazed at how perfectly her head fit in the crook between his neck and shoulder. It was those funny things about girls he liked so much. Like how their hair would always smell so wonderful, even if it was only shampoo. He wanted to stay like that all night, but he broke away.

            "I got to go, Harry might get worried," he whispered and then he tenderly kissed her forehead, as Hermione closed her eyes for that instant, trying to revel in it. She opened her eyes and moved her face very close to his, whispering in his ear, "Please don't leave."

The moonlight was falling right across her face, making her eyes glitter with reflections of starlight, it seemed. The night was silent except for the leaves gently rustling in the forest. They had never been so privately alone before.  Ron wanted nothing more in the world than to follow her plea.

            "If he was worried, he'd be here by now," she said, "Stay here with me." Ron smiled. He never thought he'd ever hear a girl say that to him. 

He grinned and simply said, "Okay." This time Hermione kissed him, her warm fingertips trailing against his cheeks. She felt his heartbeat against hers, and wanted to get lost into him, forgetting all else. Hermione remembered that she heard somewhere that when two people kissed for the very first time, their souls touched. She understood how that felt now.

            _____________________________________________

            Draco found himself sitting in the den of Malfoy Manor, his wound fully healed, his father and one of the most notorious Dark Wizards in the world sitting across from him. He had been indirectly prepared for this, in ways so subtle that even he probably hadn't fully realized; yet he still found the situation a little nerve-wracking. But for the first time he was glad he had been raised to show little, if any emotion. He vaguely remembered being little, having to sit through endless hours of dinner parties with his father's colleagues, right after having to drink a potion that would cause him agonizing internal pain, which would get worse if he moved, so he had to be very still and quiet. If he complained or groaned, he would be severely punished—so he never did. Everyone would remark at what amazing manners he had. He thought it was like smiling at his mother's funeral. 

            "You're probably wondering what we need to talk to you about," Lucius said. Draco shifted in his seat. The large armchair he was sitting in was so cold and rigid it offered no comfort in its familiarity to him. Lucius continued, "I informed you beforehand that the Dark Lord is currently searching for his daughter, with no success as of yet."

            Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sure even you have devices on knowing the whereabouts of your children, father. You can easily use something to track down your own blood."

            The cloaked figure nodded. "Yes, but she is not my direct biological daughter. Knowing that I might be in need of a follower who will invariably help and support me through any circumstances," he quickly stole a gaze towards Lucius, who looked back, very steely, " I decided to claim a child and raise it as my own; I would have someone schooled by the Dark Arts perfectly as I chose for her entire life; unfortunately, that plan, along with may others, was snuffed short because of the unbelievable luck of a mere boy. Dumbledore must have gotten hold of her, and she has probably been raised with no recollection or inkling of who she really is. But now that I have risen to almost my full power, I want her back; I have marked her as mine since her birth, and she is mine. Noble blood flows through her veins, and she has powers that will only reveal themselves around this time. Powers that would be invaluable to us."

            Draco asked, "But how can she not know who she is, if you say she has the Dark Mark?"

            "Because it will only show itself once it is activated," Lucius replied with a grim look.

            "By what?"

            "Blood that is not one's own," Voldemort answered plainly.

            Lucius elaborated. "That is why initiation of a Death-Eater often involves, among other things, murder. By killing, you have damned yourself for the Dark Lord in a way that cannot be reversed."

            Draco took in a deep breath. He was not liking the way this conversation was going.

            "Your first task, Draco, is to find this girl. She is most likely in Hogwarts, right under the supervision of that crooked-nosed fool. She will probably be revealing new powers, so keep your eyes open for any suspicious activity. Look not only in the Slytherins. She has probably been raised according to Dumbledore's wishes; she could be anyone, however unlikely they may seem. Anyone, that is, with pure blood."

            "I know she will reveal herself. In fact, I believe her Mark has already been activated; I can feel it," Voldemort said.

            "Really, my lord?" Lucius asked.

            "Yes, just now." He turned to Draco. "Let me give you a few more clues which you might find…helpful."

                        ________________________________________________

            Draco walked back to his room, his mind buzzing with all the new information. He had to find this mystery girl, and he had almost no idea who she was—almost. 

He flopped down in his bed and let his mind wander. He stuck his hand under his collar and felt his shoulder. It was healed, but not completely. A thin, silvery scar had remained, like a thread which had been weaved into his skin. Funny, he thought. He had only physically touched Hermione Granger twice in his lifetime: both times, she had injured him. His mind flashed to a scene about four years ago, that somehow had ingrained itself permanently in his brain—Granger looking at him scornfully, her eyes wet, wide, and suffering, her big curls all over her face, which was hardened with an uncharacteristic hatred, everything about her looking wild—and furiously beautiful. 

            That was the first time he had thought that, or more accurately, realized it. It terrified him, but was also very sweet, like forbidden fruit. That instantaneous thought mentally hit him as hard as Hermione had physically slapped him four years ago. Her slapping him that day was strangely shocking (and he had been desensitized to a lot of shocking things, growing up). In a quick flash, she had looked dangerous and wildly alluring, but this time the sting of shame he had felt surprisingly accompanied a sharp pain on his cheek. He never thought she would have the nerve to hit him like that; towards him, Hermione was always logical and reserved --signs of intelligence. Moreover, she had been fighting with Harry and Ron at that time; he would tease her because of that. But that moment she had hated him so much that it went farther than her friends or her usual personality. Only Draco could arise feelings like that in her. And that hatred had remained, and shown itself again that morning. Unlike his father, Draco was always secretly unnerved by the fact of people hating him so passionately. And ever since she had struck him, his cheeks would burn every time he saw her; so after that he made sure he would hurt her as much as possible whenever he saw her—this girl who had dared to hurt him, shame him, burn him, and entice him. 

                                    ________________________________


	4. Truth and Lies

A/N: Hi!! First I'd like to apologize profusely about the delay of this chapter. I AM doing nothing but writing, lol, but that doesn't mean I'm only writing this. There were a few teeny, tiny obstacles in my way: two little things called family and, cough, term papers!!!!! I'm soooooo sick of typing, I've written probably like 30 pages and the week's not over yet!!! Sigh, the life of an English major is not easy. On top of that, I practically did THREE science fair projects for my 3 lovely siblings (grrrr). I'm amazed that I got this chapter out at all, lol. Anyways, now that all my papers r over, I'll try to update a lot quicker. SORRY!!!! 

Ahem, now to the story: A couple of you gave guesses as to what will happen, * smiles * Read to find out. 

In this chapter: We get the Gryffindors' reaction to Ron and Hermione, and not to mention a certain Slytherin's. (hehe) Oh yeah, and we have the first appearance of a little, ahem, potion, if you know what I mean…..

Oh yeah, a little thanks:

**Ashes of Roses**: I really wanted to capture the discordant emotions of hate and passion that Draco feels. I love working with that. And the last chappie's poem is a Dutch one which I particularly like. 

**D/H fanatic**: (So am I!!!Lol) Thank u that u find my story so amazing. More plot complications to come! Here's the next chapter before u run out of basilisk food and go on a voracious rampage.*  Stop flashing the Draco smirk…Stop…cannot take it anymore….melting on spot into incoherent puddle… 

**Cartiliel**: Interesting observation about Voldie and Lucius. More of them to come…I'm glad u liked how I ended the last chap, I did too.

**B-Chan and Syaorons Angel**: Thanks for reading! * Smacks her forehead * y didn't I think of putting in a link on my emails?? Duh! I will from now on.

**DazzlinAngel:** Thank u!! I'll keep on going.

**Shammi**: Is it that good? Wow, thanks. I will happily email u all don't worry!!

**Jadefeather / clover**: Thank u for the email!!! I love it that people r anxious to read this story. I'm writing as fast as possible!! Oh ya, much more thickening of plot to come, with even a few twists and jerks. * smiles nastily * Enjoy the ride…

**Jean B**: Nice guessing. We'll see what happens…

**ErinWrites**: My fav grade has always been A+, lol. U keep writing too!! (Expect reviews from me as soon as I can read!)

                                    _When my love swears she is made of truth_

_                                                I do believe her, yet I know she lies_

                                                                        _Shakespeare, Sonnet 138_

Chapter Four: Truth and Lies 

            Hermione was lying on her bed, her head resting on Ron's shoulder. She could feel his chin near her face, his breath stirring her curls. 

            "So why were out tonight? Who were you spying on?" Ron asked mischievously.

            "Not anyone in particular. I just needed some fresh air. But I did, er, bump into someone unexpected in the Forbidden Forest."

            "Who?"

            "Malfoy."

            Ron shot up, forcing Hermione out of her comfortable position.

            "The slimy git? What was he doing there? Was there anyone he was meeting?"

            "I have no idea why he was there. He was alone when I saw him."

            "Did he see you?"

            Hermione chuckled softly. "Considering I flew right into him and jabbed my beak into his shoulder, yeah."

            "You did? God, I hope you hurt him," Ron said with bitter pleasure. He turned to her, "He didn't recognize you, did he?"

            Hermione tried replying without sounding hesitant. "No, I don't think so." She tried blocking out his voice—_you have such pretty brown eyes. I wonder where I've seen them before_. Usually he only looked at her long enough to insult her: she wondered how her eyes could have possibly made an impression on him. Then again, she would recognize his own eyes anywhere—but not many people had such pale eyes: cold as ice, which flashed with contempt and disdain every time he saw her;  they were clear like crystal, yet impenetrable as steel. She would hold her breath every time she saw them, waiting for the lash of an insult, reminding her of how common her own brown eyes were, how base _she_ was. Four years ago, she had slapped him across the face partly to see if she could evoke any sort of emotion from them, even if it was hurt—to see if she could break that icy glass. She mentally shook herself: of all the stupid things to think on…

            "What's wrong? What are you thinking?" Ron said in reply to her silence.

            "Nothing, really."

            "Is it about Malfoy? He didn't do anything to you, did he? I mean after you ran into him? Tell me, cause if he did…."

            Her heart almost jumped when he mentioned Malfoy. He had been so nice to her when he thought she was a bird. It was funny that whenever she thought of him, she thought of him by his first name, but Ron and Harry, whenever talking about him, always spat out his last name, as if it was something distasteful on their tongues; as if he was nothing more than a surname, he _would be nothing more._

            "Hermione, you're not answering me," Ron egged on.

            "No, no. Nothing happened, honest. I'm serious," she added the last part in reaction to Ron's dubious look. 

            "Then what were you thinking about? You were staring blankly into space."

            "Just worrying, I guess. Wondering what he was really doing out there. Kinda scary thinking that we might be having classes every day with a future Death-Eater, especially one who hates us so much." That wasn't the whole truth, but it had to do.

            Ron nodded. "I mean, look at Wormtail. He was Harry's dad's best friend, and look what he did to him. Imagine what your worst enemy might do…"

            But little did Hermione know that her worst enemy hated being her worst enemy…

                         ___________________________________________

            Harry walked to breakfast that day with Seamus, Dean, and Neville. He felt a strange mix of worry and amusement—the inevitable slight pang of worry he felt because he wasn't there to look after his friends for once, but amusement that possibly what he was waiting to happen for at least three years had finally happened. He had checked on the Marauders Map, of course, and the two of them had been in Hermione's room the entire night: then the last thing he wanted to do was disturb them. Seamus and Neville weren't much help: Neville was no more than an exaggeration of Harry's worried side, and Seamus was sniggering and giving rude remarks about what he thought was happening between them—which Harry was not very keen on hearing about: Ron was so close to him it was like imagining your brother snogging his girlfriend.

Harry therefore tried not sitting in between them, and instead he found himself sitting next to Ginny. He didn't realize it was her at first: Her usual fiery hair was hidden today under her hat. Harry noticed for the first time that she was somehow—prettier. Her eyes had become more almond shaped, her face slightly more angular. Maybe it was because her face was opened up because of her tied hair. Yet it was still quite disconcerting knowing that he was sitting next to a girl he knew was still harboring a fabulous crush on him, (although Hermione insisted it was no longer true).  

            "Hi, Harry. Um, where's Ron and Hermione?" she asked: she had finally wracked up enough courage to talk to him once in a while, but today she seemed more nervous than ever; perhaps it was because Ron or Hermione weren't there with him.

            "Um, I'm not sure, really, Ginny. They'll probably be coming around soon enough."

            Ginny hesitated, not sure if she should ask something a little intimate from Harry. "You don't think- you don't think they…you know…."

            Harry smiled at her. Ginny internally felt a familiar pang of pleasure: Harry's eyes would sparkle a certain way every time he smiled. He whispered to her, "You know what, I think they possibly did."

            And he was right; both of them came strolling in late, with Ron putting a long arm affectionately over Hermione's shoulders. She was smiling uncomfortably and Ron was slightly pink. Hermione was determined not to look at the Slytherins whispering to one another as they passed the table: yet she couldn't help but steal a glimpse at Draco, who was watching her with his eyes narrowed. 

            "Wow, I can't believe it; Weasley's finally got a girlfriend," Malcolm Braddock sneered at them. 

            "He's probably dating her for her money. Her small muggle house probably seems like a mansion to him," Pansy Parkinson drawled. Ron hesitated to shoot something back at them, but Hermione steered him away quickly. Draco, strangely enough, was silent.

            They reached their own table, with most of the Gryffindors staring at them: they sat next to Ginny and Harry, pretending to not have noticed. 

            "Where were you?" Harry asked.

            "Erm, woke up late. Lost track of time," Ron grunted.

            Seamus and Dean sniggered, Dean making smacking kissing noises. Hermione rolled her eyes. Even Harry grinning from ear to ear was frustrating her. 

            "Don't pay attention to those Slytherins, Herm," Ginny said. 

            "Yeah, Malcolm Braddock couldn't get any if his life depended on it," Dean said.

            Hermione shot them a look. "Honestly, is that all you guys think about? You just automatically assume.."

            "Aw c'mon, look at the stars in Ron's eyes. He looks like he's been struck with a thunderbolt," Dean snickered.

            " Yeah Ron. You left and never came back. Must've been some night," Seamus winked. 

            Hermione was thoroughly red. "Nothing happened!" she cried. 

            Ron looked fakely hurt. "Aw, love. You mean last night meant nothing to you?" The entire table erupted in noises. Hermione shot him a death glare and he rubbed her shoulders placatingly. "There's no use in pretending. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

            Harry leaned over across from Ginny. "So what really happened?"

            Hermione beat her fist against the table, shaking their goblets of pumpkin juice and making everyone become silent. "Why is everyone making a big deal? We just _kissed, that's all!" She said this a little too loudly and her voice echoed all throughout the quiet Hall. Several first years giggled and Hermione noticed Draco staring at her fixedly, abandoning all pretense of having conversation. She slowly sat down, her anger fizzling into embarrassment. Ron bent his head low, trying desperately to disappear under the table, but was comically unable to because of his height. Neville looked at them with his eyes wide, as if the thought of kissing anybody was too much for him to grasp. Hermione could tell by the twisted grins and silent giggles that everybody was secretly laughing to themselves._

            Harry tried to be comforting. "Aw, Hermione, I'm sorry. It's alright. This prat here has had a crush on you for ages. I've been telling him to get on with it for three years."

            Hermione goggled at Ron. "You had a crush on me for _how long_?"

            Ron looked the other way began fakely coughing, pretending he had gone temporarily deaf; his ears were as red as his hair. Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes.

                        ____________________________________________

            After classes that day Draco retreated immediately to his room; he was in no mood to fake being pleasant around a bunch of arrogant, trollish Slytherins. He sighed as he took off his tie. So what he had been expecting for so long had finally happened: Weasley and Granger were finally together. He remembered for how long he had been waiting for it, waiting to implement his plans. He eyed the goblet on his table: inside it swirling in blood-red, was the most powerful love potion known to the wizarding world. Anyone who was caught making it would be sent to Azkaban for life—entire wars were fought because of it. And had made it all for one purpose—to hurt Harry Potter: the one boy who had unwillingly been thrown into a world of fame and admiration. The one who always seemed to have everything come naturally to him—fame, talent, triumph over evil. It was almost instinctual for him to always do the right thing, to always know for sure what the right thing was exactly. For Draco, it was always a painful struggle, against what he had been taught his entire life from the outside, and the doubts he had from inside himself. On top of that, he knew that whenever Potter did anything good, he would be even more praised and admired. But if Draco did anything moral, he would be ridiculed, scandalized, seen as weak, or worse yet, have people doubt him and question his motives. It was so easy to love Potter, but the only thing that came easily to Draco was to be hated. He knew the other three housed hated the Slytherins-- he was at their forefront, their representative, the best of them all. He thought that perhaps he would find something from The Boy Who Lived that he had always struggled to find—true friendship. Surely this boy hailed for his power and virtue would give him that; but he had been horribly wrong. He had shamed him and refused his hand of friendship seven years ago; and Draco hated him for that. He was determined to make Potter's life hell, just as Potter had allowed Draco's own internal hell to continue by what he had refused to give. 

            He had been planning this for years. He would wait until Granger and Weasley were together. That would make them vulnerable, and Potter's vulnerability lied with his friends. He would give Granger the potion, which was specifically designed to make its drinker fall in love with him. Granger would betray her House, her friends, and tear up the Gryffindor dream team. 

Then came the culmination—he would break Granger's heart, but do it slowly, with subtle nuances. He knew the power of that potion: those who would drink it and find their love unreturned would torture themselves—often to the point of suicide. Draco's eyes narrowed when he thought of that. It was the worst way to hurt Potter, much worse than killing him: he would take away the one thing he had and cherished most—his friends. 

            He at first had been proud of his plan. It was subtle, yet deadly. Very Slytherin. But the recent events had shed a new light. Voldemort had told him that his daughter was just about his age. She was probably quite intelligent. And she probably would be the last person one would expect. And someone who had just encountered some blood. He was almost positive who it was. He looked at the potion: he planned to dump it down the sink; too many complications would result. But most of all, he was terrified of getting emotionally involved—he had never been emotionally involved in anything before. He distanced himself from emotion: it was a weakness, a cause of madness, only bringing pain. Yes, he would throw it away. But not before handling some business…

                                                ____________________________

            Hermione walked up to her room that night with a silly grin. Everyone kept on congratulating her about Ron; and Ron was acting so wonderfully sweet to her the whole time. She never thought she'd be so happy, that she'd ever see a boy look at her in that certain way. She felt like a little girl, but she didn't care, really. And Ron was hinting at her that he was planning a special surprise in a few days; she couldn't wait to see what it was. Suddenly a sharp voice shattered her reverie and made her heart jump against her ribcage. 

            "Nice night for a flight, eh Granger?" Draco was leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking as nonchalant and relaxed as ever. 

            Hermione stared at him, and replied, her voice cracking. " I don't know…I don't know what you're talking about."

            He was smiling at her mercilessly. He strolled over to her and leaned over her, putting his hands against the wall, on either side of her face. 

            "Don't act stupid; you're terrible at it." He looked straight through her, looking for any sign of panic and dishonesty. He said quietly, "You know I'd recognize those eyes anywhere."

            Hermione's breathe caught in her throat. Then, to her shock, he began unbuttoning his shirt slightly. He made a sudden motion and Hermione jumped, but when he caught her hand, he did it gently. He made her fingers trace his white scar along his shoulder. 

            "Surely you remember this?" he whispered. Hermione's cheeks were burning, her heart was pounding in her ears. Why did his skin have to be so blasted smooth? She closed her eyes, unable to bear him looking at her any longer.

            She wanted him to pull away, but he came only closer to her: he knew he had the upper hand. He spoke, still caressing her fingers, making a sort of electricity run across her arm. "You know I'll tell Dumbledore about your little…infraction. That is, unless you make it worth my while _not_ to."

            Hermione opened her eyes and looked into his. They had a sort of hunger in them. She pushed him away; he was beginning to terrify her. Terrify her because he was so frighteningly close to her. 

            "What is that supposed to mean? If you think that I'd-"

            He hissed at her, "Don't flatter yourself, Granger. All I want you to do is one thing." He kneeled his head, his lips close to her cheek, his warm breath in her ear. "Tell me about that Dark Mark on your arm."

                                    _______________________________________


	5. Revelation

**A/N:** Hi guys!!! Help! I have finals next week!! It's ok, I'll try to write as much as possible. Thanks to those of you who kept on reviewing:

**Ashes of roses**: Wow. Glad u like this so much. What a lovely review. Thanks for reading my stuff for so long. U'll see me on Saturday!! Miss u so much, tho. Hope ur stories are going well. Cough, plug: if ne one is a passions soap opera fan, her stories are better than the show!

**Very Interested Reader**: Thanks for reading this one too!!!! Phew. Long review. Lots of stuff to answer (which I love, thanks!) I know, I ahem, recycled a few parts from my other story, but I was inspired to write this one while I was looking for plot ideas for Fallen Angel, my older story. Don't worry, this one is different!! Glad u like the poems. 

Did it seem Draco called Voldie father? That was unintentional, probably not clearly written, sorry. The again, it might strike some ideas….hmmmmmm. Voldemort _says_ that his daughter is a successor, but we'll find out real motives later on. Good observation, tho. Oh ya, did you really think I'd be that predictable? NO way. Read to find out what happens. 

I myself am not much of a Harry/Ginny shipper. I agree that in the books she seems somewhat not for him. But it feels weird just having him sit there w/ nobody, like a saint(hehe). And Ginny in this story is a lot better than in the books…(smiles). But I haven't decided yet. We'll see. Tell me what u think!!

**ErinWrites**: Sorry if u got confused with my other stpry. But I'm glad u liked it. Keep on writing and I hope my reviews encourage u.

**B-Chan and Syaorons angel**: Yeah, I know, papers can be a real bitch, lol. Oh, Hermione will say something slightly different to Draco's accusation, hehe.

**Clover**: I posted!! Hope u like this chapter. (what am I saying? I know u will)

**JeanB**: I completely agree that Dracoalso wanted Harry as a powerful accomplice when he held out his hand to him in first year. I thought that went without saying. I just wanted to give some insight into perhaps a more smaller, underlying motive.

A few more general notes: This chapter answers a few questions, and I think will probably be a bit…surprising (hehe). I'm trying to be as unpredictable as possible (which is kinda hard to do with 65,000 fanfics out there). Hope u guys like this chapter. P.S. You get to see some of  Draco's lovely acid humor in this one. I love that about him, and I tried my best, although comedy is harder to write than drama.  Here is the next installment, for your reading pleasure:

_Cruelty has a Human Heart_

_                                                And Jealousy a Human Face_

_                                                Terror, the Human Form Divine,_

_                                                And Secrecy, the Human Dress._

From _A Divine Image_

                                                                        William Blake 

Chapter Five: Revelation 

            Hermione staggered. "_What_?"

            Draco's stare was unwavering. "I _told_ you not to act stupid."

            Hermione realized he was serious. She relaxed, and to Draco's surprise, a bit of a smile started creeping onto her lips. "Sure I have the Dark Mark. And I suppose _you have a poster of Professor McGonagall wearing red lingerie secretly hung up somewhere."_

            Draco drew back. He couldn't help but smile also. "Don't be ridiculous. I _hate red lingerie."_

            Hermione made a frustrated noise. "Honestly, I think I could have a more sensible conversation with one of your cronies, Crabbe or Goyle."

            "I'd like to see you try. I've been trying to do that for the past seven years. No dice." Then his gaze hardened. "But things will make a lot more sense if you show me your arm."

            "This is crazy. I can't believe you're asking me this," Hermione said disdainfully, trying to break free of Draco. But he grasped her arm tightly—more tightly than was needed, actually. He was piercing her with those sharp eyes. "_Show me your arm," he said threateningly._

            Hermione stared back, trying to look like she wasn't unnerved. She pursed her lips. 

            "Fine," she said, and she rolled up the sleeve of her rob, and then her sweater—the skin was milky white. 

            Draco froze. He traced his fingers along her arm. Hermione raised her chin. "Tap it with your wand, or do whatever the hell you want. I don't have a bloody mark." 

            Draco wrenched himself away from her, muttering and swearing under his breath; Hermione raised an eyebrow—he was quite vivid with his language: she never realized you could do _that_ with a broomstick.

            He ran his fingers frustratingly through his hair—they didn't do much to mess it up, the strands just fell between his fingers. 

            "God I'm a bloody idiot," he said to himself. Hermione was watching him with crossed arms.

            "It's alright. We all know everyone thinks I'm an evil Death-Eater. Honest mistake," she said sarcastically.  "Now you tell me something. Why did you just ask me that?"

            "Never mind," Draco replied tightly. "You can go now, Granger. Sorry I bothered you."

            Hermione stood firm. "I'm not going anywhere. Why did you think I had a Dark Mark? What on earth could have possessed you to think that? You know something and you're not telling me."

            Draco sneered. "Very perceptive, Granger."

            "Well I'm not leaving until I know what's going on."

            "Fine. You can stay here while I go tell Dumbledore that you sneak around the grounds at night as a phoenix. If you're lucky, he'll have you as his new pet."

            "If you tell Dumbledore, I'll tell him that you know something about someone in the school having a Dark Mark."

            Draco suddenly smiled—a wonderful, nasty smile. His eyes glinted, like light flashing off a knife. "Dumbledore already _knows_."

            "Huh? What do you mean?"

            "All I'm saying is that he knows a lot more than you can possibly imagine, but always refuses to tell anyone else; he loves using your ignorance to his advantage, and manages to make you Gryffindors worship him for it."

            Hermione was breathing heavily. "You know Dumbledore's not like that."

            "Oh yeah? Just look at what he's done to precious Potter. He didn't even know he was a wizard until he was eleven. He grew up never knowing what really happened to his parents. He didn't know his father was an animagi. He never knew that Sirius Black was his godfather. And trust me, there are many things he _still doesn't know. That is, until Dumbledore finds it convenient to tell him." _

            "Listen, Dumbledore is really intelligent, and whatever he does, it's for the best. He's managed to protect Harry for his entire life and has made sure he's been raised the right way."

            "I doubt being raised with foul muggles who hate, despise, and abuse you is exactly the right way. It's hilarious how nobody questions him. But I think soon enough, you will." And with that he went in his room and slammed the door in his face. Hermione went into her room, shaken by what she had just heard. But also amused and curiously happy that she didn't have any red lingerie. 

                        _______________________________________

            Hermione thought she would distract herself by doing some homework—it had always been a sort of salvation for her because of everything being Harry's friend had put her through. She took out an especially heavy book, Advanced Arithmancy for Advanced Arithmanics. But Draco wasn't exactly the easiest thing to get out of her head. She found herself reading paragraphs and not remembering anything she read at all. She was sick of rereading, so she simply shut the book. 

            Suddenly she silently cursed. She had made a study appointment with Ginny and Harry; Harry had wanted help on studying for his N.E.W.T.S. and Ginny, who astonishingly had received as many O.W.L.S. as Percy, wanted a nice head start on them, especially because Hermione would graduate and not be there to help her next year. She checked her watch and hoped that they wouldn't kill her for being half an hour late. 

            She was about to go out the door when she heard a knock on it; one part of her begged for it not to be Draco, and another one was curious to find out what would happen if it was. She opened the door, and saw Ginny standing there, slightly pale and uncomfortable.

            "Aw, Gin. I'm sorry. I know I'm a little late, I totally forgot. I'm really sorry," she apologized quickly.

            Ginny smiled weakly. "Oh, it's ok. I actually canceled it with Harry today. I needed to talk to you. Alone. When you didn't come, I came here."

            Hermione let her in. Ginny walked in and sat on her bed. 

            "What is it?" She asked; then a thought came to her. "Does this have anything to do with me and Ron? If anything is bothering you, just tell me."

            Ginny looked at her, as if she just remembered that Hermione and her brother were a couple now. "Oh, _that_," she said vaguely. "No, it's nothing with that. But there is something else that's…bothering me."

            "What?"

            "Well…" she began hesitatingly. "Okay, let me start with this." She took off her hat, and untied her hair; it fell to her shoulders in gorgeous, straight strands. It was about four inches longer than the day before, but more amazing was how straight it was. Her entire life, Ginny's fiery red hair had fallen around her face in wild curls.

            "Wow Ginny! Your hair looks amazing! How did you do that? And why were you hiding it?"

            She blushed slightly. "I didn't do anything, actually. I just woke up and it looked like this. I didn't want anyone noticing; they'd make up some stupid reason for me changing my hairstyle, like I have a crush on someone or something. Besides," she said, " I feel kinda weird like this. It makes me look too…."

            "Pretty?" Hermione finished raising an eyebrow. If you'd ask anyone who was the best looking girl in Hogwarts, they'd probably say Lavender or Parvati; but Hermione always thought it was Ginny. She was the type of girl who was pretty when you went a step back and took a second look; it was a natural beauty, which Hermione admired. But with the long, straight hair, it was much more noticeable. It outlined the curves of her face (but was that the only reason why it looked different?) when it fell across it, contrasting more with her bright, brown eyes. Her eyes—usually they were so light that in the sun they looked almost hazel; now they seemed deeper, darker.

            "I dunno. I just didn't want any attention. And I also grew a few inches too.

            "Well, I mean, you're only 16, Ginny. It's not all that amazing."

            "All in one day?" 

            Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I could look up something for you, find a possible reason."

            Ginny lowered her eyes. "No. I think I know what this all might be connected to. I haven't shown you the worst part yet. I almost screamed when I woke up, but I didn't want anyone to see it." 

            Hermione looked at her curiously. Very slowly, Ginny raised her sleeve. On her forearm, burned charcoal black, was unmistakably, the Dark Mark.

                                    ______________________________________

            After what had happened, Draco needed a cold shower to calm him down; he was extremely thankful his Head Boy's room had its own bathroom. He stepped out, roughly dried up, wrapped a towel roughly around his waist, and went into his room to change. He was hunting for a clean shirt and some knickers when his door slammed open and two people burst in—girls, no less.

            "Malfoy, I need to talk to you," Hermione said fiercely, but her momentum was cut short when she saw him. "Oh, sorry, er-"

            Amazingly, Draco seemed completely unruffled. " You know, I always dreamed that two young girls would come bursting into my room while I was wearing nothing but a towel, but somehow it wasn't like this."

            Ginny was smirking at him; it was a mischievous smirk quite uncharacteristic of her. She said slyly, never taking her eyes off him, "Maybe you were just imagining the wrong girls." Draco hoped she wasn't mentally undressing him even more than he already was.

            Hermione seemed to be the only one thoroughly embarrassed, but at the same time tried not to laugh. It was funny how she realized that she had never seen so much as Draco's knees before. She mused ridiculously at times whether he even had knees. Now he was standing there, water dripping from his hair, across his neck and shoulders, and she was seeing much more than only his knees. Yet he still managed that contemptuous sneer of his.

            "Okay, so you want to talk to me. Is me being naked mandatory?"

            Ginny's smile broadened. "Oh yes, very much."

 Hermione elbowed her in the ribs. "Okay, we'll give you a moment to er, get dressed." She pulled Ginny with her out of the room and closed the door.

"Oh. My. God. I've found something to live for again. Did you _see_ that body?" Ginny said, amazed.

"Ginny! Will you stop? Remember who we're talking about?"

"Sorry, I can't help it," she said in mock apology. She smiled. "Don't tell me when you saw him you weren't just a _little_ bit-"

"_No," Hermione lied firmly. _

"I should've known. To you, sexy would be Lupin lecturing for an hour on vampires."

Hermione looked scandalized. "I never said he was sexy!"

"Sure," Ginny said doubtfully.

"Now listen-" Hermione began to protest, but someone clearing his throat made her turn around. Draco was looking at them, an eyebrow raised under his hair, which was still sleeker and shinier because it wasn't thoroughly dry. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, dark gray trousers, and a smile.

"Professor Lupin will be quite interested to hear that," he said, "then again, I can totally see why that rugged, turning-into-a-disgusting-werewolf-and-ripping-your-throat-out-image can be attractive to girls."

Hermione looked away and tried distracting herself by putting a curl behind her ear. Ginny went inside and she followed her.

 Draco looked at them, crossing  his arms. "I hope you haven't come here just to show me your new hairstyle."

Ginny smiled. "No, but thank you for noticing." She grabbed an elaborate looking statue of a dragon from his desk: it looked gorgeous, elegant, and very expensive—just like Draco himself. 

"Put that down," he said harshly. "Your father would have to work for five years just to pay for that," he sneered at Ginny.

She looked at him sharply. "I think you should be showing me some more respect."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because she has _this," Hermione raised her sleeve, showing the Dark Mark._

Draco's mouth dropped. He muttered under his breath. "How in the hell…_Ginny Weasley_?"

"I don't know how it happened. Neville's toad had bitten him, and he came to me so I can heal his bloody finger. It was too late at night for him to go to Madame Pomfrey and it was hurting him too much. He knew I had some Medi-Wizard training over the summer. Well, after that, I had this pain in my arm but I thought nothing of it. When I woke up this morning, my hair looked different, and here was this blasted thing on my arm."

Draco was still staring at her in shock. "I can't believe this." He ran his fingers through his hair again. 

"Draco, you obviously know something about this. You thought for some reason I had it. What's going on?" Hermione demanded.

But he wasn't paying attention to her. In fact, he started laughing. Annoyed, Hermione stared at him with her hands on her hips. "Your brother's going to have a fit, he is," he gasped. Suddenly he stopped, and smiled once again—that smile which was never comforting because it always meant trouble. "That is, if he even _is your brother."_

"What do you mean by that?" Ginny asked.

He stared at the ceiling, thoroughly enjoying all this. "Perhaps you should be asking Dumbledore." He turned to Hermione. "Remember what I said? I'd like to see him explain himself out of this one. Poor little Ginny Weasley." He looked at her. "You will tell me your real name when you find out what it is, won't you?"

"I want to know what's going on," Ginny said sternly. "I bet this mark brings all sorts of powers with it. You don't want me using them on you, would you?"

Draco gave a short, derisive laugh. "You don't know how to use them yet," he drawled, "And I think you'd rather hear everything from Dumbledore, since you Gryffindors love him so much. I'm sure he'll tell you the truth, just as he's always done before." His voice was full of contempt. 

Ginny sat next to him on his bed (which looked quite strange to Hermione). She looked at Draco, tears starting to fill her eyes. "You mean, he _knows_?"

"The worst lies are often told in silence," he said thoughtfully. He looked at her, and then ran his fingers through her locks. "Straight, red hair….I should've _known," he whispered to himself. Ginny didn't even bother asking him what he meant._

"Well how do _you know about all this?"_

"Relax, I didn't know anything myself until very recently. But I suppose Dumbledore could explain a lot more of it to you. But you're all due for a nasty shock, you are. I'd love to see the looks on all your faces," he said with relish.

Ginny supposed he was right, though she hated to admit it. She'd rather hear Dumbledore tell her whatever it was. Not Draco, who would do it derisively and shove it mockingly at her face—at least she thought he would do it like that.

"I guess we should go now," she said quietly.

"Yeah, it might ruin your reputation if anyone saw us here," Hermione said acidly.

Draco lied down on his back, his arms in back of his head. " Two girls leaving my bedroom at night…no it would be a testament to how much of a stud I am," he smirked. 

Hermione got up; she had enough of him for one night. She gently raised up Ginny, who had turned oddly quiet and—strangely sad. They walked out the door.

Draco gave out a long exhale of breath. _Ginny Weasley_….he thought, shaking his head. It was true: Dumbledore had made it so that she'd be the last person anyone would expect. He had only slightly changer her appearance, but made sure she was raised with wizards, and raised as a Gryffindor. And the fiasco with her and the Chamber of Secrets in her first year…it explained a lot…

He looked at the dragon she had been picking up. Right next to it was the goblet with the potion. He walked over to dispense with it before he changed his mind.

A voice startled him so much he almost knocked it over.

"I wouldn't touch that, if I were you," came a silky voice from the corner. It was Lucius Malfoy.

            _____________________________________________


	6. More than Blood

**A/N**: Hi again!! YAY!! I'm so happy with the astonishing number of reviews, thank you soooo much!!! This chap would have been up a few days sooner, but cursed technology got in the way (as well as siblings screwing around with the comp and losing a part of this chapter!!) First, I'd like to remark at what a surprising, serendipitous journey writing can be. This story has spun out of control than what I originally planned—I just thought of an extra plot twist, one thought led to another, and well, you get what you're reading now. I KNOW this is a Draco/Herm story, I have not forgotten, lol, but this next chapter with the Ginny subplot is integral to the whole plot later on. Besides, I think (or hope, lol) its just as interesting. But yes, I promise lots of wonderful Draco/Herm action in the near future.  Meanwhile, tell me what you think of this chapter.

Oh, and another point: every update I am amazed at how intelligent and wonderful my readers are. You guys bring up a lot of valid, good points, and even give me new ideas. Thank you!!! Ur reviews are indispensable, and ultimately, I think the more reviews I get, the better this story gets because of your feedback (at least I hope I'm doing okay. J )

And now for specific  responses: 

**Ashes of Roses**: Where were you on Saturday? We missed you, lol. _I miss you, :{ Hope you got my reviews, and many good wishes for your future stories. Thank you so much for the continued reviews and support._

**Clover**: You'll see Ron and Harry's reaction soon. Hope you especially like Ron's.

**ErinWrites**: I'm glad you like the direction (or current misdirection, lol) of the plot. You should update your own stories too!! Thank you for reading everything I write—it's greatly appreciated.

**B-Chan and Syaorons Angel**: Yes, this IS a Dr/Herm fic, I have not forgotten, but this chap is pretty crucial to the plot (not to mention quite reveals a lot).

**Very Interested Reader**: I love Dumbledore too, but it's kinda frustrating whenever he keeps things from Harry and the others. Yay! Glad u like my Ginny. Good observation—a lot of her actions and personality will be due to the effect of the Dark Mark. She'll go thru a lot of changes in this story. As for the plot u suggested, I actually DID consider doing that when I was figuring out this story from before (Scary, ur beginning to _think_ like me, in twisted, dark rabbit holes, as u said, wink.) Read to see what actually happens—hope ull be surprised again. Sorry if Lucius pops up a lot, but u'll see why.

**Jedi Amoira**: New reader! Yay! Glad u like my humor. Ginny will have a lot of interesting reactions to everything she finds out.

**JeanB**: I admit that it was stupid of Herm to show Draco Ginny's mark. I slightly mention that in this chap. Hey, she's only human, u know, and I needed to do that for the plot. Thanks for reading and giving constructive comments.

**D/H fanatic:** I know! I get computer probation too sometimes!! Grrr. Bless u for still making an effort to read. Give ur basilisk a nice pat on the head for me. I could suggest a few annoying world leaders that might make a nice meal for him right now (whistles innocently).

**Lutherese legarde**: Hey, DID u read my story?? Please do! I promise it'll be worth it! If neone told u about it, please let me know so I may thank them. 

A side note about the poem: The Latin phrase which precedes it actually appears on the manuscript of the poem. It reads: Happy is he who has been able to learn the causes of things.

                                    Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas. 

                                                                                    Virgil

_ They Say that Hope is Happiness--_

_But genuine Love must prize the past;_

_And Mem'ry wakes the thoughts that bless:_

_They rose the first—they set the last._

_And all that mem'ry loves the most_

_Was once our only hope to be:_

_And all that hope adored and lost_

_Hath melted into memory._

_Alas! it is delusion all—_

_The future cheats us from afar:_

_Nor can we be what we recall,_

_Nor dare we think on what we are._

_                                    Lord Byron_

Chapter Six: More than Blood 

Draco turned around lazily and put on his best drawling voice. "You know, father, that whole appearing-seemingly-out-of-nowhere-from-the-dark-shadows thing is _highly _outdated."

"Sorry, after thirty years of being a Death-Eater, it becomes a habit." He said, although by his voice you could tell he was not at all amused.

"Especially since I always know you're there," Draco said. 'And especially because I know you've always been watching me through that enchanted mirror over there,' he thought, but he wasn't about to let his father know _that_.

"That was actually quite a smart move, accusing the Mudblood of having the Dark Mark so that she would bring whatever friend she had to you when she revealed herself. I suspected that she would probably be a Gryffindor."

'Not really, father,' Draco thought. 'It was just as Voldemort said—I guess I'm blessed with dumb luck.' But he said out loud, "Alright, now that we know who it is, what are we going to do?"

"Nothing, immediately," said Lucius. "Let Dumbledore tell her everything; then she'll feel betrayed, and not want to have anything to do with him for a while. That is when she will be vulnerable; that is when we make her go back to the Dark Side," he had a horrible glint in his eye, "at least, that's what Voldemort thinks."

Draco was leaning against the bedpost, his usual style, but he straightened up, intrigued. "Do go on."

"That is where that lovely potion comes in; Dumbledore will tell her all, and she will denounce him in her heart—the Mark will harden her, make her stubborn. Then we er, accidentally slip her the potion. She needs someone to bring out her powers to full effect; and after the potion, and that wonderful performance you gave tonight, guess who she'll practically run to, ready to do all for him?"

Draco smiled, but he was despising the way this was going more and more every minute. "And then what? What good will that do, to have her fall in love with me?"

"We know what she is capable of, what she holds the key to. The Dark Lord needs her. But with the potion, she'll listen to _you_." Lucius started pacing back and forth. "Don't you understand, boy? Finally, the Malfoys will be under the command of no one. Finally, we can reclaim our rightful place,  reclaim it since it was overthrown by Salazar Slytherin."

            Draco sighed. "That's all wonderful, dad, but there's one teeny tiny thing: Voldemort just happens to be immortal. How can you defeat someone you can't destroy?" 

            Lucius walked back into the corner, the shadows creeping onto his face. "There are some things about Dark Magic you have yet to learn, Draco. Whatever is given--it is given at a price. Being a Malfoy, you should understand this quite easily. If one cannot pay the price, then whatever is given can just as easily be taken away."

            Draco shook his head. "Sorry father, you lost me there."

            "The Dark Lord gained his immortality, but he needs to compensate for it; what do you think he will use?"

            Draco gave out a long exhale of breath. He felt like his throat was being crushed in a vise. He muttered, "_Ginny_."

                                    __________________________________

            "Sir, please, we need to speak with you," said Hermione as she walked into Dumbledore's office, followed by Ginny. As Head Girl, she always knew his password in case of an emergency—and this was one hell of an emergency. 

            "Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked pleasantly from his desk as he looked over to her from underneath his half-moon spectacles. 

            "Sir, you need to um, see this," Hermione said hesitantly. Ginny was heartbreakingly quiet. She merely walked up to him and raised her sleeve. Dumbledore gazed at her arm, at the Mark, silently for quite a while. He shut his eyes, then opened them slowly. 

            "Miss Granger, please go and fetch Mr. Ron Weasley. This concerns him also," he said hoarsely.

            "Yes, sir," she said as she lowered her head and went out of the office. Ginny sat there and promised herself, _forced_ herself to promise, that she would do everything to _not_ cry.

                        ___________________________________________

            "Damn you!" Harry cried, smiling. "Seven years, and I still haven't figured out how to beat you at bloody chess." 

            Ron returned his smile, as he began packing up his chess set, which was slightly difficult, with all the pieces congratulating each other.

            "Time is what works against you, Harry. I've known you for so long, I already know what you're gonna do before you do it. It's all in anticipation, and using that for deception,  catching someone by surprise."

            "Well how come I can't do that to you?" Harry asked. Ron shrugged. Harry pointed a finger at him and chuckled. "Maybe you have more Slytherin in you than you thought."

            Ron widened his eyes. "Don't even joke about that. If a Weasley ever had any Slytherin in him, I'd go hang myself."

            They both snickered. Suddenly they stopped when they saw Hermione, looking pale.

            "What's wrong?" Harry asked.

            "Yeah, who died?" Ron said half jokingly.

            But Hermione was silent. After a few moments, she said, her voice very muffled and cracking. "Ron, you need to go talk to Dumbledore." She closed her eyes, holding back tears. "It's really important, Ron." 

            He stood up and looked at her, concerned. "Love, what's wrong?" He cupped her face in his hands. She looked at him, and then buried her face in his shirt, putting her arms around his neck. "Just go," she said, breaking away.

            "Aren't you coming?" he asked.

            This time she couldn't keep back the tears. "No, you need to see him alone, with-- with Ginny." 

Ron looked at her. "Alright," he said determined. Hermione's tears had made shiny, wet tracks on her cheeks. He raised her chin, gave her a soft kiss on the lips, and after giving a confused look to a bewildered Harry, he left. Ron could still taste the bitterness of her salty tears in his mouth. 

            _________________________________________

Ron opened the door to Dumbledore's office, and saw Ginny sitting in front of him, as if she were not there; if Hermione had looked troubled, she looked a thousand times worse. She seemed like a hollow, desperate shell.

"Have a seat, Ron." Dumbledore said.

 Ron walked toward Ginny and slowly took a seat next to her, facing Dumbledore. He looked at Ginny and tried rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. She bit her lip. 

"Gin, what's wrong?" he asked. She turned her head the other direction, as if looking at him was painful. He took her hand and held it tightly; she let him as if she couldn't fight what she was fighting against after all.

"Look, Gin. I don't care what you've done. You'll always be my sister, and you know that." At this she almost broke down. She hid her face in her free hand and groaned in anguish. She was squeezing his hand so hard her fingernails were driving into his skin. Ron put his arms around her and looked pleadingly at Dumbledore for an answer.

Dumbledore gave out an extremely long sigh; he looked devastatingly older. He began: 

"Ron, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Ginny, if you please, show him what I mean."

            Trembling, Ginny showed him her arm. Ron nearly collapsed in sheer, ultimate, astonishment.

            "Sweet Jesus," he muttered. He looked at her, horrified.

 Ginny stared at him, her eyes very red. "It wasn't my fault. I've had it since before I can remember."

Ron felt like he was about to go mad. "_What_?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ron, listen to me. When Ginny was born, she was snatched by the Dark Lord, who seemed to be determined to raise her under his control, and make her one of his followers. He marked her as one of his own when she was just an infant. Fortunately, his plans were interrupted by Harry Potter, who caused him to lose his powers even though he was merely a baby himself. So I undertook the responsibility of getting you back, and placing you in a…different home, one where you would be safe."

"Excuse me? Are you saying that_…she's not my real sister?" Ron had gone completely white—his freckles stood out like splatters of blood._

Ginny turned to him sharply. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Of course not," Ron said, angered.

"I'm afraid its true, Ron. I slightly altered her appearance, and I put her with a specific family where she would…fit in, be completely unsuspected."

"I had red hair, just like everyone else in your family." She said the word "your" as if it killed a part of her to say it. 

"But…But…I mean….during _all this time…" Ron stammered. _

Ginny wrenched herself free of Ron's grasp. She looked fiercely at Dumbledore. "I don't understand; why not just give me back to my original parents? Who are they?"

Dumbledore gulped. "That would have been quite impossible."

"Why?" Ginny's anger had been boiling up for a long time. Her whole entire life, she had been living a lie; everything she had believed in was false. She wondered why it had to be that way. She felt the mark on her arm searing.

Dumbledore answered, "Well, Ginny, we aren't able to reach them, at the current _time." Ron raised his eyebrows, and Ginny held her breath. He continued. "Ginny, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but your parents…well I mean they are legendary, but unfortunately they don't exist at the moment."_

"You mean Voldemort killed them?" Ginny said. Ron winced when she mentioned the name; she had a curious aura to her that reminded Ron terrifyingly of Harry. 

"No, he didn't." Dumbledore said with finality. He lowered his eyes. "Ginny, your parents lived more than a thousand years ago. They were none other than Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff."

            _________________________________________

Harry's jaw was so wide open he somewhat resembled a dead fish.

"You mean Ginny has a Dark Mark?" 

Hermione nodded. "I also think that perhaps Dumbledore hasn't been totally honest with her about who her family is." 

Harry's hair was on end because of his fingers running through it. "I can't believe this. And Malfoy, he somehow knew about all this?"

"Yeah. I told you, he asked me if _I had the Dark Mark."_

"But you told him Ginny had it instead?"

"No, I said I showed it to him." She reddened a little. "I realize now that was a pretty stupid thing to do. But I knew he had information about it, and I just had to ask him."

Harry shook his head. "He was probably looking for who it was. Whatever we do, we have to keep Ginny away from him as much as possible". Hermione nodded. She wondered what was going on inside Dumbledore's office at that very moment.

            __________________________________________

"That's impossible. You're still lying to me!" Ginny said, her eyes fiery. Ron gaped at her; she seemed taller, and with her flowing hair and sparking eyes, she seemed more commanding, even slightly frightening. He never thought she'd have the nerve to talk to Dumbledore like that.

"No, it's the truth. If you'd sit down, Miss Weasley, I'll explain the rest of it to you." Dumbledore said sternly.

Ginny exploded. "Miss Weasely? Why are you calling me that? You _know _that's not my name. You've been calling me that for six years, making every one call me that when you knew it wasn't true!! You bloody _knew!" She was yelling and at the last word, she collapsed to her knees, her shoulders shaking with grief. _

"Calm down!" Dumbledore said fiercely. Ron froze—he had never seen him so angry. Was he angry with Ginny's indignation, or with himself? "Listen, Ginny, and yes, that is your real name. You were christened with it, and so I kept it; however, your surname is, of course, Slytherin."

Ginny sat there, and with a pang suddenly remembered—her acceptance letter had come frighteningly late—for a few torturous weeks she thought she hadn't been accepted, that she wasn't a witch. It finally hit her that they _didn't have her name on the record_.

Then something came to her. "But I'm, I mean, I was put in Gryffindor. Isn't that a little contradictory?" she said more contemptuously than she was used to.

"The Sorting Hat goes by your personality, which in turn, is affected by how you are raised. Slytherins themselves can be very brave as well, and the Sorting Hat saw that in you and put you in Gryffindor. Your Dark powers had not surfaced clearly yet, because your Mark had not. " Dumbledore leaned in closely. "But Ginny, not anybody could have opened the Chamber of Secrets. I'm not sure if Voldemort even realized that, or Lucius Malfoy, when he slipped you that diary. Not anybody could have controlled that basilisk snake, even if Tom Riddle was making you do it; you still managed to keep it from killing anybody, although you did it subconsciously. It wasn't entirely pure luck that all those students survived those attacks."

Ginny was trying to take all this in—she was trying to, but somehow, her head was spinning. She wanted to wake up, to end all this: it couldn't possibly be true; she was just having an awful, extended nightmare, right?

"But, I mean, how did You-Know-Who capture her from a thousand years ago, and _why?" _Ron asked_._

Oh God, there's more, Ginny thought.

"There's a lot of history about the four founders of this school that not many people know about: quite scandalous, interesting stuff, you know. Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw were married, actually. But Gryffindor always held a secret grudge against Salazar Slytherin."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"They were both in love with Rowena Ravenclaw, but she chose Gryffindor, and Salazar never forgave him for that. For ages they fought over whether or nor purebloods should only be allowed in the school. Godric won out in the end, but Slytherin had his revenge. Helga Hufflepuff was Godric's cousin by marriage, and one of his most trusted friends; He tricked poor Helga, sweet, innocent woman though she was. He seduced her, making her think that he had patched things up with her cousin and was no longer willing to wage war against him. Ginny here was the result. Of course, Syltherin always had ulterior motives. The child would be able to play a role in his Heir's consolidating of power. But the only way he could do that was to transport her to a different time—Rowena was an expert on that and he managed to steal her Time-Turner. He organized it so that one day his Heir would come take the child and raise her as his own. Voldemort did so, traveling through time. But he lost his powers because of Harry Potter, and the rest is history. Incidentally, there is only one Time-Turner in existence that has the capability to go back, and it has disappeared. It could still be by Voldemort, as far as we know. "

Ron was shaking his head in disbelief. Ginny was silent.

"Oh, and one last thing you should know. When I brought you to the Weasleys, you were exactly Ron's age. However, I wanted to make it look like you were a year younger, so it would be less obvious who you were. I instructed Molly to periodically give you youth potions to make it look like you were a year younger."

Ginny closed her eyes. She didn't even know her true age. This was the last drop in the bucket before it toppled over, its contents crashing in waves of fury. She got up, glared at him so frighteningly that even Dumbledore was slightly surprised, and she ran out of the office. Ron bolted after her. 

She ran across the hall for a while, but stopped and slunk against the wall until she was on the floor, her knees huddled against her. She was gasping, panting, hyperventilating. She wanted to scream, to howl, until she could wrench her soul out through her lungs. She couldn't help it; her eyes were burning, and she was crying--weeping in that heaving, desperate way that you only see in someone who does not want to cry.

Ron bent over to her and tried to touch her, but she thrust herself away from him. "Can't you see, Ron?? Everybody in my life has lied to me; I know absolutely nothing about myself. I'm not… I'm not even supposed to _be _here! I don't even know my own goddamn name, not even my _age!" _

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a steady stare. "Ginny, _listen_ to me. I don't give a shit as to what he just said. Do you remember what I said at the beginning of all this? I don't care what happens. You'll always be my sister—_always._ I have loved you my entire life; I always have, and I always will.  I'm your brother not only because of blood."

Her mind flashed back to all her brothers: Bill, with his many girlfriends and his job of hoarding gold for Gringotts bank, had a glamorous life, was always someone to look up to, to be admired. Charlie, with his sweetness and kindness and endearing passion for dragons-- seeing him was like coming home to a cheerful, comfortable fireplace. Percy, who was sometimes bossy and uptight, yet was always responsible and trustworthy. Fred and George, who would sometimes make her life hell with teasing her, yet always cheer her up with that wonderful thing called a laugh. And finally, there was Ron— closest to her in age and secretly her favorite: he always stood up for her, yet never had the slightly superior, overbearing tone that older brothers tended to have. He treated her as an equal, not  like a little sister. Ginny looked up at him, saw his fierce blue eyes: always reassuring, always protecting, always there for her. She smiled; at times, he was more than a brother—he was a salvation, and a friend. And that hadn't changed—it could never change.

She hugged him tightly, and cried into his shoulder. He gave her a kiss on the forehead. At that moment he was the only thing that kept her from slipping into the dark abyss of despair that had been threatening to overtake her. But it would be the last time she let him be the shoulder to cry on. 

__________________________________________________

**A/N:** How'd u guys like that? Sorry if it's getting more complicated. Hope u liked it; What is Ginny's involvement in Voldemort's plans??

Next chappie: We see Draco's reaction to his father's little scheme. Ginny asks Draco for a little, ahem, help (you'll see—it'll be good, hehe). And we also learn something about Ron and the rest of the Weasleys. Until then, Read and review!!! 

Puts on cheesy infomercial voice: All those who review will receive the ultimate fanfic gift package: a personal thank you and response to ur comments, an email whenever I update with a link and if u review in the next five minutes (lmao) you will be blessed by fanfiction gods with many reviews to ur own stories. Lol. For a limited time only!!!            


	7. There Must We Ever Be

**A/N:** Hi!!! You won't believe what a relief it is to finally be able to finish this chapter. After it broke down, I've been having to do without a computer for like two weeks!!! I've been going insane!!!! (did u get the email about it?) I really hope people will still read this story, though. I try to make it better as much as possible. 

In this chappie: Mostly Draco and Lucius tension. Draco's reaction in the end might be surprising. And we see some humor with Hermione and Harry. Hope u like it!!!

This is slightly off topic, but I think we need to like file a petition to get Colin Ferrel to play Sirius in the next Harry Potter movie. He is soooo hot and I think he'd fit perfectly (that's how I c Sirius, don't laugh). Who agrees with me?? lol. Gary Oldman (I think he was in Hannibal, and the Fifth Element, if ne1 has seen that) is a good actor, but he just doesn't fit Sirius, if u ask me. Ok, now that I'm done ranting, here r the thanks to my readers: 

**D/H fanatic**: Because of my unfortunate computer mishap, I dunno if I can give you three whole chapters by ur bday, but I'm doing my best!! I'm elated that u like this story soomuch, and u transport me to my own little nirvana by giving me such a great review!

**B-chan and Syaorons Angel:** if there's anything confusing, tell me so I may clear things up for u (and for other readers as well). Sorry if this post was delayed, but it was very much against my will!!

**Clover**: Really? I had NO idea of my power to summon the gods!! Perhaps I should ask for Brad Pitt wearing nothing but tight ripped jeans and a smile. Or at least more reviews from such amazing readers!! Thank u! Hope ur story continues to do well.

**ErinWrites**: Hope u like Draco's reaction (I do, of course!) I hope the wait for this chap wasn't too torturous

**DazedPanda:** (great name!) Didja read the rest? What did u think? Hope u like this chappie.

**Very Interested Reader**: I'm glad u appreciate the poems, cause I really love literature. This next quote isn't from a poem, but I think it fits with the chap, and it kinda twists the traditional meaning of Hell into something more profound.

You're on to a lot of great points about Lucius's scheme and Draco does not fail to remind him of them. Oh ya, u'll be thinking a lot more "What if" in future chappies. Time travel will be doing some more twisting of plot. Thanks for the continued insightful and just inspiring reviews.

**Bean**: ooh, I like it that u think my story is…exciting. I want it to be that way (wink-wink).

One side note to this quote: The speaker in this excerpt from a play is Mephastophles; he's a demon, sort of like Satan's right hand man. I think I've been reading way too many dark pieces of literature for English. Why are so many great works about Hell? Can't we have a classic about fluffy bunnies? Wait, scratch that. Just read. Hehe.

 Hell had no limits, nor is circumscribed

                                    In one self place; for where we are is hell,

                                    And where hell is, there must we ever be.

                                                                        _Scene 5, lines 120-123,_

_     Dr. Faustus_

Chapter Seven: There Must We Ever Be 

            Lucius smiled contemptuously. "Ah. So you're not completely hopeless. Yes, he will use Ginny—and certainly take her life."

            Draco was still astonished—he noticed he had been feeling that a lot lately. "But who…who could possibly give him immortality? What kind of bargains are we talking about here?"

            "Oh c'mon Draco, think. I didn't make you read all those novels for nothing. Despite the fact that they're written by Muggles, I made you read them, so I thought you would have a clue."

            Draco's mind raced at what his father had said. His father had given him a few books—none of them very happy, actually—his mind flashed. Dante's _Inferno, Paradise Lost, Heart of Darkness, _Dr. Faustus_. _

            He had to sit down to deal with the reality of the question he was about to ask. "You mean Voldemort made a deal with _Hell_?"

                        _________________________________

            Harry and Hermione were still waiting in the Gryffindor common room. It was completely empty, because it was so late. Harry had managed to keep the fire going. They had tried distracting themselves—Hermione had a formidable, large book in her lap about ancient Runes. Harry was trying to read the latest issue of _Quidditch Illustrated (A/N: minus the swimsuit models, for all of you who have read my other fic, wink-wink.) However, it was quite obvious that their minds still kept on buzzing with worry over what happened to Ron and Ginny. _

            Hermione shut her book with a loud clap, a small cloud of dust emitting from its pages. "This is awful! I can't bear it! I'm going to Dumbledore's office!" She said as she began rising from her seat. 

            "They'll probably be here in a few minutes," Harry said, trying to calm her down. He smiled comfortingly at her. "I know. I hate waiting as much as you do."

            "Harry, do you think…that maybe if we went back to Malfoy, he might tell us--"

            "_No," Harry answered swiftly. "I don't feel like being insulted and lied to at the moment, sorry." He looked deeper at Hermione. "Why on earth would you want to go __back and talk to him?"_

            Hermione raised her hands in acquiescence. "Sorry. I plead momentary insanity. It was just that he seems to know about all this, and I'd like to hear his version of events. Sorry Harry. I'm just so worried over Ron I'm willing to practically do anything."

            Harry slumped back in his seat. "That's alright." He smiled slightly, "I was worried there for a sec that maybe you enjoyed being in his company," he smirked. 

            Hermione looked positively scandalized. "I would _never--_" She hit him on the shoulder with the book she was holding.

            "Ow!" Harry groaned, holding his bruised arm, but still managing to laugh. "I was only joking, I was. Honestly, Hermione, you take everything so seriously."

            "Well with you insinuating that I could possibly, in my right mind, ever do such a thing…"

            "Well I can't help overhearing Parvati and Lavender always going on about how cute he is; it's disgusting, really. They act like he's a heartthrob, a fad or something."

            "Well forgive me for always being hopelessly out of fashion," Hermione remarked.

            "Oh sure, and I'll just forget all those years you had those Brad Pitt pictures stowed away in your notebooks." Hermione smiled threateningly at him. He looked mockingly frightened. "Get away from me with that book! It's actually heavier than it looks."

            Hermione's smile stayed in place. "Trust me, Harry, if I wanted to hurt you, I have much bigger books for that." She finally allowed herself a chuckle. "Besides, Ron doesn't know what goes on with Muggles. He's never even heard of Brad Pitt." She stopped laughing at smiled terribly at Harry. "You mention what the girls say about Malfoy. Well, you should hear what they say about _you."_

            Harry's eyes widened and the firelight sent sparks across his glasses. "Me? What do they say?"

            Hermione strangely seemed to be relishing all this. She said quite innocently, "Let's just say your flashy broomstick isn't the _only_ thing they want to ride."

            Harry started choking in between his amazement and laughter. Hermione started laughing hysterically. After finally catching hiss breath, Harry said, his cheeks very red, "Wow, Hermione. Hearing that from _you, it's just…disturbing." Hermione bit her lip, trying to stop laughing. Harry said with a final laugh, "The bad thing is I'm not sure whether or not I wish you made that up."_

            Hermione burst into fresh giggles. After a deep breath, she said, "Aw, Harry. Thanks. I needed that."

            But their moods would change that instant when the two people they had finally been waiting for finally came in. Ron was walking slowly with his arms around Ginny. He looked quite solemn. Ginny, with her eyes wet and bloodshot, looked devastated. Harry and Hermione rushed to them. Harry took Ginny away from him and sat her on the couch. He held her hand and she looked at him as if she had never seen him before. Hermione hugged Ron very tightly, and looked up at him for an explanation. 

            "I think that…that maybe Ginny should go to bed. She's had an awful night," Ron said hoarsely. He nodded to her, "I'll tell them everything, Gin."

            As if she were a ghost, Ginny loosened her fingers from Harry's and got up and went toward the stairs to the girl's dormitories. Hermione went by her side to help her but she shook her head. "I'll be fine," she whispered, but she looked far from it. Hermione continued wit her but she sharply turned to her. "I _said, I don't need any help," she said in a startlingly loud voice. Hermione went back, slightly frightened. Ginny made her way upstairs. Hermione rushed back to Ron as she asked him in a hushed voice what happened._

            He gave an enormous sigh as he explained everything.

            "So Ginny is NOT your real sister??" Harry asked.

            Ron shook his head. Hermione had been holding his hand ever since he got in. She said, "Looks like it hit her pretty hard."

            Ron ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, a bit," he said sarcastically. "I mean, her whole life has just been turned upside down; who she thought her family was, who she thought _she_ was, even the time period she is supposed to live in--everything she ever believed was a solid given…_isn't._" Ron looked up. "I just…I just can't believe it. She's not the only one that's been lied to." At this he looked down again, as if words failed him. 

                                    __________________________________

            "Are you trying to tell me that Voldemort sold his soul to the devil?" Draco gasped.

            "Of course not. If he's made immortal, then how can they get his soul? No demon is that stupid, and Voldemort surely isn't stupid enough to sell his own soul. Yes, he did promise Hell a soul—just not his own." Lucius said all this with a disconcerting smile. 

            Draco stared into space as he tried taking this all in. So Ginny was doomed—in the totally worst sense of the word. 

            "So we save poor little Ginny; and when Voldemort isn't able to deliver her by his deadline, they'll make him pay using himself," Lucius said.

            Draco crossed his arms. "But why Ginny? Can't he just use anybody else?"

            "No. Voldemort is a Parseltongue. He has the blood of Salazar Slytherin. He has a lot of magical power. Anyone without those qualities would simply be unacceptable."

            A lot of thoughts were running through Draco's head: but they all revolved around an adamant refusal. "This plan is utterly insane. Honestly, _father, after all those decades of being a Death-Eater, I expected a little better."_

            "You're testing the limits with your arrogance, boy," Lucius threatened.

            "Because I refuse to take part in a plan that is doomed to fail?"

            Lucius sat down in a businesslike manner. "Why? Enlighten me, if you think you've thought of something I possibly haven't considered before."

            "Why hasn't anyone staged an insurrection against Voldemort before? You told me yourself he can read minds. He'll know about this in a second, and he'll kill you in even less time."

            "There are potions to block only certain thoughts and let the rest pass through. Besides, Ginny falling in love with you does not need to be suspicious—remember that you're about to become a Death-Eater yourself. It will all seem to be according to Voldemort's plans. Who else better to bring her into our circle than you?"

"I doubt little Ginny will give herself over to hell with a jolly smile on her face."

            "I never said she had to do it voluntarily."

            "Well no one is quite that stupid to be lured close enough to hell, whether they're to jump in it or simply be pushed in."

            Lucius smiled. "You'd be surprised how close people will get to actual hell without realizing it until its too late." His smile flickered. "Believe me, the Dark Lord has his ways of persuasion. It is human nature to thirst for power—and to give up everything else for it. And nobody is better at offering power than Voldemort."

            "Or at least giving you the illusion that you have power," Draco retorted; he knew very well his father would know who that was directed to.

            Lucius stood up and said in a low voice, "It is a very bad thing when a son starts disrespecting his father." His eyes were narrowed to slits and suddenly he looked very frightening. Draco fought his instincts to run—what he had accumulated in childhood; but he had promised himself never to let his father have that effect on him ever again. 

            Draco stiffened his shoulders and looked into his eyes; he realized that he had never actually done that before—the sharpness of his father's direct gaze stung him for a moment. But he did not relent. He was just as tall as his father now and he stared straight at him without blinking. 

            "How completely blind you are, father. Seventeen years have gone, yet you have never noticed what I've turned into. I'm no longer that frightened little boy, the inferior child you sneered at all these years. I refuse to be a pawn in your little plans."

            Lucius was slowly moving from contemptuous amusement to complete anger, "I did not have to tolerate seventeen years of constant disappointment from you. Trust me, I could have been far worse to you. And you are still a frightened child, as you are too afraid to be in a plan that will be the road to ultimate strength. You are still too terrified, too weak to seek it. And it disgusts me."

            Fury seemed to have traced every line of Draco's face. He tried to keephis voice from shaking. "I am afraid of nothing—least of all _you." _

            And with that he grabbed the goblet from his table and let it fall from his fingers—it crashed to the floor, breaking into millions of pieces and spilling it contents; the liquid seeped through the cracks in the stone floor, staining it like blood. Lucius was so silent that Draco thought he was able to hear every individual piece of glass strike the ground after it broke, like a sharp, glassy rainfall.

            "Foolish boy," he hissed.

            But shattering that goblet seemed to free Draco somehow. Instead of being apprehensive at what Lucius might do, he was utterly relaxed. "I think not. I will go along with this plan depending on if it will serve my interests or not." He stepped closer to Lucius, who gripped his cane more tightly. "And believe me, I can do it _without_ a bloody potion. She'll feel something that can never be cured with a simple antidote."

            The slightest smirk broke his father's lips. He turned around and walked out the door, crushing the bits of glass underneath his heavy boots.

                        ________________________________________

A/N: How was that? I know what ur thinking: What the hell? I thought there was gonna be some action with a potion in this story!! Well, by now u know not everything is gonna go as expected. U'll see what happens in the future (and get some more answers!)

I wish all my reviewers fanfic writing bliss such as I have, and plentiful reviews to go along with it. If ur still reading this story after such a delay, bless u!!!           


	8. Out of Her Age

**A/N**: Hi!! I'm still astonished by the sheer amount of responses. Wow, I'm soo happy. Therefore, I have written an extra-long chapter, with more revelations about the Weasley and Potter family history, an eventful DADA class, and the beginning of a very um, interesting scene. I'm slightly sorry, but the Ginny subplot continues with this chapter, although I think its pretty good. Some of you have wondered when the real Herm / D action will start: well, not for a few chapters. A few things need to occur first. It takes me a while to get to romance, I don't know why. I can't just plunge into having characters make out with no development beforehand. But that doesn't mean there won't be _any romance in these chapters: on the contrary, they'll be quite steamy, esp Chapter Nine. There'll also be some upcoming Herm/Dr flirting, hehe, even if flirting for them means Draco being wonderfully insulting and charming at the same time and Hermione being put off by it, which encourages Draco even more. Lovely dynamics._

Thanx to my amazing readers. I know this section is pretty long but I really, really wanna show my readers how much I care about them. I believe that if you give to your readers, they'll give back to you:

**D/ H fanatic**: What an amazing review! Glad u thought it was funny. (more broomstick humor in the chappie following this one. Draco as a confused jackass…I like it! How _will Hermione ever love him? Well she'll get a little help…I posted this chappie today specially so it'll be ur birthday present! Happy Bday!!! Sorry I couldn't get three chapters up, but this one is a bit longer than usual, specially for you. Say hi to ur basilisk for me. (I think a few of his friends appear in this chapter. Perhaps he has unconsciously inspired me, hehe)_

**A Very Interested Reader**: Yes! Someone who agrees with my Colin Ferrek\l idea! Ya, he is likable, but remember, you also have to like Sirius for the next _four books afterward! Plus I think its always a good idea to have a hot guy in a movie, if solely for the purpose of eye candy (hehe). Wow! I guess the gods indirectly told me about ur inside joke about bunnies, and so I used them, lol. No, I have NOT dropped off the face of the Earth, but being without a comp for so long, at one point I actually wanted to. I'll try to update as quickly as possible!_

**Ashes**: Glad u liked the emotions—I really focus on what people feel, as it helps u imagine urself in the character better and live vicariously thru him or her. Ah. Another great thing about writing….

**B-Chan and Syaorons Angel: **Thanx for reading and reviewing so many chapters after one another. As I said be4, no concrete Dr/ Herm action until a few chappies, but there will be romance nevertheless (ill see what I mean). Hey, for my last story, it took me 25 chapters to get to some romance. Don't have a heartache!! I won't be nearly as slow with this one.

**The Elfin Child**: Yeah, I really torture poor Ginny in this fic. I also like to think I turn her into a much more interesting character, at least from what we've seen in the books so far. Thank you for reading, hope u continue to review!

**Calcifer: **How _did Lucius appear in the room without apparating? I didn't have time to explain in the last chapter. Lets just say he has his ways which will remain hidden for the moment…_

**Bean**: I'm trying to be as quick as possible. Hopefully, updates will be a bit sooner, esp if the reviews continue at this pace.

**Athena**: I'm glad u appreciated the original plot and all the stuff with Ginny. U see more of her in this chappie (and I think Draco will get more of her than what he bargained for, wink-wink).

**JeanB:** Yes, ur predicted complications are going on the right track, hehe…

**Trillium**: Yes, Draco and Dumbledore, in my opinion, have more to them than we see obvsiously in the books. I like to think Draco's more than a nasty spoiled brat, and there's something more about Dumbledore we're not told about yet. Why did he have a glint of triumph in his eye at the end of the 4th book, when Harry said Voldie could touch him? hmmmm

**StarryNights**: Ya, I thought people would think Ginny would end up being Harry's sister. More things revealed about familial connections in this chapter.

**Iarejedi**: glad u appreciate all aspects of a story, and I'm so thrilled hearing that you got really into this one. I personally love getting addicted to a story and I'm flattered that my writing is actually good enough to do that. Yup, this story is waayy more than fluff, in fact, even the romance will be a bit more raw and passionate, not fluffy (at least ill try to make it that way). Good quote u made up urself in ur bio. I personally agree 100%. If ur a Harry/Ginny shipper, perhaps ull like the later chaps of this story.

One small note: This poem alludes to Helen, who in Greek mythology, is the most beautiful woman in the world, and who Paris falls in love with ultimately causing the hugely destructive Trojan War. I saw a few neat parallels with Ginny in this one, so I picked it. But it might relate to other characters as well. By the way, Helen's daughter in Greek mythology is, guess who: Hermione!!! Cool, huh?

There's a slight pun in the word "Age" in this chappie's title, hehe.

                                                _Why should I blame her that she filled my days_

_                                                With misery, or that she would of late_

_                                                Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,_

_                                                Or hurled the little streets upon the great,_

_                                                Had they but courage equal to desire?_

_                                                What could have made her peaceful with a mind_

_                                                That nobleness made simple as a fire,_

_                                                With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind_

_                                                That is not natural in an age like this,_

_                                                Being high and solitary and most stern?_

_                                                Why, what could she have done, being what she is?_

_                                                Was there another Troy for her to burn?_

_                                                                                    William Butler Yeats,_

                                                                                    No Second Troy

Chapter Eight: Out of Her Age 

            The next morning at breakfast nobody felt like eating much; even Ron was moving around his scramble eggs in his plate distractedly with his fork, with a very dazed look on his face. Hermione was uncharacteristically quiet, not even mentioning their upcoming Potions test. Harry was staring at Ginny, who was sitting a few seats away, motionless and silent. Her hair was still invisible under her hat; but Harry noticed she could never hide those dark, long, curled lashes, or the few freckles (Ron had a lot more than her) sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. Harry really wanted to go over to her, talk to her, do something; but he realized with a pang of guilt that he never really talked to Ginny before, and if he did now it would be obvious he felt sorry for her. He felt even more like an insensitive git when he realized that even after his second year, after all she went through, he never even talked to her much about it. He did save her life, of course, and she had been indescribably grateful, and because of that even more eager yet more terrified to talk to him; but he had just brushed it off, just as everyone else, who all wanted to forget about it as soon as possible. She had lived in a house full of people, but he knew she probably suffered through much of it quite alone. 

Suddenly he saw Malfoy from across the Hall. He was staring at Ginny intently, a bit of a smile on his face. Harry remembered the conversation he had with Hermione earlier.

            "I don't like the way Malfoy is looking at Ginny."

            Ron looked up and glanced at the Slytherin table. "Don't worry. If he ever tries getting his filthy hands on her…well let's say I'll make sure the Malfoy family line doesn't continue..

"How's she doing, Ron?" Harry asked. Ron had gotten up early that day and waited for her in the common room, so he could at least check how she was. 

            "Not much better," he replied. "She wouldn't even speak to me. All she said was 'Stop trying to take care of me, Ron. You're only making it worse'. And she just left. It was as if I suddenly became a stranger."

            "Give her some time, I guess," Hermione said, locking her fingers into his. He gave her a weak smile.

            "I know this might sound weird, but, it's not as if she's totally unrelated to me."

            "What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

            "Well, our family is actually a descendant of the Hufflepuffs. Mum and Dad told me and Gin a few years ago. We still have Helga Hufflepuff's red hair. Our family sign, you know, the weasel, is not all that different from the Hufflepuff badger."

            Hermione and Harry had identical looks on their faces—amazed. "How come you never told us before?" Harry gaped.

            "I don't know," Ron shrugged. "I never really thought it was all that important. I mean, it's not like we have anything valuable from Helga Hufflepuff or anything."

            Harry realized, "So Ginny was actually supposed to be your great-great-great-great grandmother or something."

            Ron moved his head back and blinked. "That's just too weird. I'm not even gonna think about that."

            "Don't tell Ginny. I think it won't help much," Hermione said. 

            Suddenly Ron had gone slightly pink. "There is something else. I guess I should have told you _this_, Harry." Harry looked puzzled. Ron continued, "Well, haven't you ever noticed how much Mum fawns over you every time you're around, Harry?"

            Hermione gaped. "Ron, you're Mum is just really nice; and with Harry having no proper family and all…" she broke off when she saw Harry's face. "Sorry, didn't mean it that way." She looked at Ron, half to avoid Harry. " Ron, you're not jealous of _that_ are you?"

            "Don't be ridiculous. I was trying to make a completely different point. Harry, Mum absolutely adores you. Not to mention that your own mother had red hair. If you put two and two together…."

            Harry froze with disbelief. "Ron, you're not saying that--"

            "Yeah. Helga Hufflepuff isn't the only person I'm related to."

            Harry dropped his spoon and it fell to his plate with a loud clank. Several people looked at him curiously for an instant, then resumed their conversations.

            "Ron, Harry's mother is Muggleborn," Hermione reminded.

            "Yeah. But Mum hasa cousin who's an accountant. He's related to Harry's mum, I think."

            Harry searched his brain. "Oh….I think I do remember…we had a relative come over once to do Uncle Vernon's taxes…find loopholes so Uncle Vernon would pay less money."

            Ron smiled slightly. "Like I said, we don't talk too much about him."

            "So I'm related to Ginny too?"

            "Not exactly. Dad is the one related to the Hufflepuffs. Mum is the one you're related to."

            Harry shook his head. Then he smiled. "So now I'm an honorary Weasley?"

            Ron chuckled. He said brightly, "You always were, mate."

                        ____________________________________________

Ginny paused before she reached the door of her DADA classroom. She had been listening in on Ron's, Harry's, and Hermione's conversation. She had heard what Ron had told Harry. Hearing it was like being stabbed in the heart with a blade; while Harry had always been a part of the Weasley family, she never really was. Well, if she wasn't a Weasley exactly, then she had to figure out who she was, try to accept it, maybe even enjoy it. So the first step to do that, she thought, was to let her hair down; she had gathered enough nerve after seeing Ron—seeing him made her even more determined to try and be her own person. She took a deep breath. "Here we go," she muttered to herself. She walked in and tried not to notice the Slytherins staring at her.

            "Look who's trying to fit in," sneered Molly MacNair, a Slytherin, staring at her straight, ginger locks.

            "Another ploy to capture Potter's attention, I suppose," drawled Tristan Avery, another Slytherin. Ginny knew both of their father's were Death-Eaters; Harry had told them after his fourth year. She tried to ignore them, but Avery continued. "Why don't you just slip him a love potion and save us all a lot of trouble?"

            "Leave her alone! I think her hair looks beautiful," Colin Creevey shot back, although slightly hesitantly. He was blushing slightly; he had become one of Ginny's best friends, but she could tell he fancied her somewhat.

            "You would think so, wouldn't you, Creevey? You worship Potter; you probably even want to have his girlfriends. I bet he probably snaps pictures of her undressing in her room when she's not looking." snickered Ben Baddock. Colin went extremely red.

            "Correction. She only _wishes_ she were his girlfriend. Hey Weasley, did I ever mention that I saw Potter and Cho Chang snogging each other's lips off in the Astronomy Tower last year?" Tristan said nastily. Then he began making rather rude smacking noises and began moaning in a very bad impression of high female voice, "Oh, _Harry." The entire Slytherin side was laughing hysterically._

            Ginny tried closing off everything. Even though Harry had dated Cho briefly the previous year (which she had furiously worked to ignore), she knew that what they were saying couldn't have been nearly true. Ron had told her the whole thing with Cho was just an awkward mess. She sat next to Colin without saying a word. But her face was so red and fierce he seemed afraid to speak to her.

One of her friends, Amy Radcliffe, leaned over and whispered to her. "Never mind them, Ginny. I think your hair looks _gorgeous. You have to tell me what you did. I'm sick of these curls." Ginny smiled. _

Her other friend, Lucy Felton, nodded. "Their nerve. Honestly. They're all so awful, even if Draco Malfoy is such a hottie."

"Hey, Gin. I think he was actually staring at you during breakfast this morning," Amy winked. Immediately all the Slytherins froze. They had obviously noticed the same thing at breakfast.

"What?" Ginny said.

"No he wasn't!" Lucy denied

Ginny had an idea. She said thoughtfully, but loud enough for all the Slytherins to hear. "Of course he was staring at me. I _was_ in his room last night."

"You were?" Amy gasped.

"What happened?"

"Not much. But I can tell you he has the cutest birthmark right on his--" 

 "Where's the werewolf? Running late again, I see," Baddock said, to divert the subject.

            "It's an insult, him teaching us. I thought we had gotten rid of him four years ago," Molly MacNair said, rolling her eyes. Dumbledore had managed to get Lupin back as a DADA teacher that year; he was able to only after new advances to the Wolfsbane potion had made him even less of a threat to others. Also, Lupin had gained a reasonable amount of respect because Dumbledore had helped him get a job as an Auror; the Ministry was getting more and more desperate for Aurors as rumors were spreading about You-Know-Who becoming more and more powerful. 

            Finally, Lupin walked in, looking slightly out of breath. He looked much better than when Ginny saw him four years ago. His robes weren't as shabby, his hair was tidier. But he still retained that slight paleness in his face, that slight thinness of his build, due to years and years of being ill during the full moon; that part of him would never leave, just as Sirius would always retain that haunting feature in his eyes; sometimes there are types of pain that are permanent.

            "Sorry I'm late, guys. Emergency meeting with Dumbledore." He couldn't help but glance instinctively at Ginny. "So, today I'm going to get right down to business. Since all of you have decided to take Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, you should learn to deal with more advanced dark creatures. So today will be your first practical lesson." He unlocked one of the cabinets and took out a few medium-sized wooden crates; they weren't moving, as one would usually suspect if they held some sort of dangerous animal.

            "Can anyone tell me what creature is always used by those in the Dark Arts, to the extent that it has become their trademark? That it is even on the Mark that distinguishes every Dark wizard?" Ginny squirmed.

            "Snakes," said Avery.

            "Right. But no points because you spoke out of your turn, Mr. Avery." The boy scowled and crossed his arms. Lupin continued. "Snakes have been fascinating people for thousands of years. Right from the time of the serpent and the Fall of Adam and Eve. They are stealthy, have acute senses, and can have incredible strength and flexibility."

            "Not to mention that they're venomous," Ginny replied, but more to herself.

            "Yes. And that is the main reason why they are always used in Dark Potions. If a wizard becomes engulfed in the Dark Realm long enough, he can be corrupted enough to be able to live through poison; have it run through his veins—make him stronger. This is a part of how You-Know-Who regained his power three years ago." Several students whispered. "And that is why you must learn some basic techniques to prevent yourselves against snakes; if you ever fight against the Dark Arts, it is almost certain you will encounter them."

            He moved the crates with his wand closer to the middle of the class. "In this crate I have about twenty-five quite sizable snakes.  Pythons, cobras, and the like. They happen to be sleeping at the moment," he smiled, "but not for long." 

            Colin Creevey looked terrified. Lupin went on. "Now all of these snakes have had their fangs removed. So their bites won't kill you. But that doesn't mean they won't strike at you. The point of this exercise is to see if you can react to them quickly enough, or restrain them properly. If you aren't a Parseltongue, you have to either pacify them, or attack. Who can tell me what would be a good spell to pacify a snake?"

            Lucy raised her hand. " _Dormire_?" she asked.

            Lupin smiled. "Good observation. In fact, that is the spell I have used on them right now: the sleeping spell. If advanced enough, it could even be used to make dragons go to sleep. Five points." Lucy smiled. Lupin then took some more suggestions as to how to handle the snakes. Then, he clapped his hands together. "Right. Now I want everyone to go the crates and grab a snake; be careful not to wake them up early. They'll all be coming to on their own in a few minutes." There was a slight bustle as the students hesitantly got up to the front of the class. Ginny got up, but she felt a hand gently hold her back. It was Lupin.

            "I need to speak with you, Ginny."

            "What, sir?" she asked politely.

            "I think maybe you should skip today's lesson. Dumbledore just told me everything."

            Ginny's features hardened. "I'm _fine_, Professor."

            "No, its just that—Ginny, do you speak Parseltongue?"

            "We'll soon find out, won't we?" she said slightly more contemptuously than she was accustomed to.

            Lupin held out a hand to stop her. "I don't think that's a good idea, Ginny. I'm sorry."

            She stared straight into his eyes. "I said, everything will be fine. I can tell for myself what I can handle, _Professor_." Lupin stared at her in amazement—her long, flowing hair, her scornful look; He realized with a pang that she looked astonishingly like Lily, but her attitude resembled something like Malfoy's. He wasn't sure he recognized her anymore. All he knew was that he didn't like it. 

            Then he realized that he wasn't able to move his legs; they were stuck to the floor. Ginny smirked at him and made her way to the crate and took out the largest sleeping python in it. Groaning in frustration, Lupin muttered something and waved his wand to free his legs, but he was too late; everyone's snakes, including Ginny's were beginning to awaken.

            Most of them attacked raised their head, hissed, and attacked almost immediately, lunging their mouths toward the students. Several girls screamed. Colin Creevey yelled out in pain—his snake had bitten him, but he furiously held his wand and yelled out, "_Dormire_!" His snake suddenly fluttered its scaly eyelids, swung its head drunkenly, and then dropped it to the floor with a thump, fast asleep, its tongue flickering. Several others were also falling asleep, others disappearing in black puffs of smoke. 

            But Ginny was not able to see all this. The moment all the snakes woke up, her head was suddenly filled with twenty-five voices she had never heard before.

            "What place iss thisss?"

            "Ssuch young flesh…how deliciousss."

            She turned around, and noticed, half scared and half excitedly, that they were all coming from the snakes. She could hear what they were saying. She raised her wand and turned to her own snake, which had suddenly stopped hissing, and was staring at her with its bright, yellow eyes. It flickered its forked tongue and touched her fingers. Ginny drew them away, shuddering.

            "Ssoo. The daughter of the Great Serpent Tongue. It iss and honor."

            Ginny lowered her wand. "You know who I am?"

            "Of coursse. I am one of the old ones. I know about the prophecies. The young ones do not know how to recognize you as your powers have not come to their own. But I am your sservant, my lady." It was quite strange seeing the snake bow its triangular head to her.

            Ginny was trying to decide whether she liked this or not. "Really?" 

            "Yesss. Even our masster was obliged to your sservice. That is, until he was sslain."

            "The basilisk? You know about that?"

            The snake nodded. "I was the one who told the servant of the Slytherin's Heir to give his diary to you. I knew only you would be able to open the Chamber. But I did not tell him you were Sslytherin's daughter. The Heir had lost his powers then. But now he has gained his Dark powers, and ssoo shall you."

            Ginny began breathing quickly. "Tell me how."

             "The servant of the Heir. He has a sson—the one named Dragon. Go to him." It was hard to tell, but Ginny thought the snake was smiling, "I'm sure he'll be able to awaken all your ssensess." It began slithering away, but a blast of light hit it; it had come from Lupin. The snake dropped its head, fast asleep, and Ginny looked up to see the entire class staring at her in utter bewilderment. Lupin was looking very angry. 

            "You and I are going to the Headmaster's office after class, Miss Weasley." Ginny had never seen him so stern. She realized she had done something quite foolish. Not even the Slytherins were laughing at her getting into trouble. They were all gaping at her with their mouths half open.

            "Everyone, put your snakes back in their crates, if they're sleeping." As if shaking off cobwebs, everyone seemed to come to their senses and began moving. People were whispering furtively to each other, glancing at Ginny warily. 

                        ____________________________________________

            Ginny walked across the corridor blearily. She had just returned a book she had borrowed from Hermione—_Darkly Advanced Dark Arts: from Salazar Slytherin to Modern Times. _Ron and Harry were in her room with her, and when she entered they all greeted her with uneasy smiles, trying to be nice without making it too obvious that they were being nice. The three of them had this special connection with one another: Ginny felt that she would never become fully a part of it, and she always felt awkwardly isolated when she was around Ron and his friends. That was why she didn't stay in that room for very long.

Hermione had been reading the book for some background information for her own DADA class, and it had a lot of useful information, not to mention some little known facts about who she now realized, was her father. It suddenly hit her like a bolt of lightning: the man who she had grown up knowing was evil, the man who had built the Chamber of Secrets, who had put in the basilisk there, who was determined to murder innocent people, was her _father_. As if she didn't feel guilty enough about the debacle of her first year. 

            More and more guilt began heaping on her as she remembered her meeting with Dumbledore and Lupin: how she was foolish to try something like that, without any idea how the snakes would react, or how _she_ would react. Besides her disobedience, she had endangered her fellow students by locking her teachers feet to the floor when students were working with live snakes. When asked what the snake had said to her, she had lied and said that it only told her that it knew who her real father was.

            She had received detention, of course, which might work against her being Head Girl next year, but that was not what bothered Ginny; she didn't care if she received ten detentions. She wanted to yell out and remind them that they had outright _lied_ to her for sixteen years. She was filled with an increasing suspicion that now that she knew who she was, they wanted to keep her in check as much as possible—so that she dared not venture forth anything beyond the meek, innocent Ginny they had sculpted her to be.  

            Lupin was  angry, but he did not yell at her or acted mean; he just sternly reproached her and told her the true implications of further actions like what she did that day. Dumbledore was mostly quiet, but seemed to agree. He told her to be careful about which paths she would choose and what serious consequences her actions may have. Ginny listened to all this quietly, but secretly fuming inside. When they were finished, all she said was, "Because of you I have no identity now. And when I try to find one you try to stop me. I hate everyone trying to protect me from myself. Everyone in this world has the right to be who they are—that is, everyone except _me." And she had walked out the door with a slam, leaving Lupin with his mouth hanging open and Dumbledore with a very grave look on his aged face._

            She had felt extremely guilty after her little rebellious streak; Lupin and Dumbledore were only looking out for what they thought were her best interests, and they had made very good points. But she couldn't help but feeling a little proud. She was brave enough to do things she had never done before.

            Do things she had never done before…her mind traveled back to her little conversation with the python. She was steps away from the Draco's door—he was Lucius Malfoy's son, his name meant "dragon". He was the key to getting her powers somehow. Her brain flashed with the image from last night: him dripping wet, wearing only a towel, the hair falling to his face in blond, chunky strands, , the outline of his arms, his lean torso, his lips still wet with moisture—what she didn't imagine with those lips. She had no idea what was getting into her. A Weasley would never think things like that, but perhaps a Slytherin would. This was much different than the chaste, sweet crush she had with Harry, pining with innocent sighs, and where she would dare no further than to imagine kissing him lightly.  For the first time she felt the severe grip of physical lust clamping against her chest. She suddenly halted and started making her way back. She had to go see him again. 

            By the time she knocked on his door the furious thumping of her heart was so loud she hoped he wouldn't hear it. She worked to keep herself in check. She had been getting better and better at faking calmness.

            The door opened and there he was, slightly taken aback at seeing her; however, he leaned back casually against the doorway and smiled that smile of his that was inviting only to those who dared to _make_ it inviting.

            "You have the wrong door, Weasley. The Mudblood's door is over there. But judging from the annoyingly loud laughter and the stomping around, I suspect she has your oafish brother with her. I doubt she'd want to be bothered, even if you are a Gryffindor," he sneered.

            Ginny was completely impassive, and her voice was biting in how reserved its tone was. "First of all, I was never a Weasley, and Ron was never my brother. Secondly, I'm more of a Slytherin than _you_ are. Now let me in, before I change my mind and realize I _do have the wrong door."_

            He examined her for an instant, slightly impressed, and let her in, the smile never wavering on his lips.

                        ____________________________________________

A/N: Hehe, wished I continued, huh?? Personally, I think Harry will end up being related to Ron in some way. (Also, I think Crookshanks is an animagus and that the Dursely's neighbor, Mrs. Figg, is a witch, possibly even Crookshanks, but that's a diff story. If u wanna see evidence for it, ask me!)

The ultimate fanfiction gift package still stands for all those who review! At no extra charge!!! Don't forget to leave ur email address if u wanna know when I update!


	9. Love and Wrath

**A/N**: Hi!!! I wanted to write this chapter soo much that I decided to write this one be4 updating my other fic, Fallen Angel. I noticed a slight trickling down of reviews, so I'm trying to make the chappies better and better. Plese review, if u reading!! It's the best way to make this fic better!!

In this chapter:  More broomstick humor, and some steamy action (yes!) My chappies are getting longer and longer, so I better get rewarded for it! Lmao. There'll be more Herm/ Dr action in the next chapters, as I've said.

Now for the indispensable list of individual thanks

**D/H fanatic**: This has _got_ to be one of the longest reviews I've ever gotten. You use prepaid cards? What a pain in the a*%, lol. Thank u for battling thru so many elements just to review. Sniff. I'm touched!! Hope u liked ur birthday present (This chappie is even better!! I hope)

Medea! Amazing quote. Wish I could read Latin and Greek, as u can see by the quote in front of this chapter. I've read that play by Euripedes. Its great. I love how she does evil things but u still end up feeling sympathy for her. You go girl! Lol Ginny as the guilty rebel…I like that too! I'm glad u like my signature roller coaster rides (Do u know a good patent office so I can copyright them? lol) U'll see how the Ginny/ Dr situation ends up. Oh, and I really don't mind how much personal info u put. Frankly, I'm flattered that a reader can open up to me so much. Thank you! Hopefully I can still sleep safely because of this update, lol.

**Jedi Amoira:** Thank u, I really try to be creative. Much more strange occurrences to come, but hopefully the characters are as believable as possible

**JeanB**: Don't worry, I'm also swamped w/ work. That's y these updates are slightly delayed. I read about 500 pages a week (no exaggeration!!) And I still manage to write this. How? Because I'm also addicted to fanfic. (Why do I suddenly feel like such a nerd?? Lol)

**Iarejedi**: Yeah, Draco definitely needs some love in his life. So I think u'll like this chapter. (No, I _know_ ull like it!)

**Trillum**: Crookshanks is a tom cat? Didn't realize that, thanks. I forgot. But I'm still positive Mrs. Figg is a witch. Dumbledore says to Sirius in the 4th book, "Get Arabella Figg…the old crowd." And when the Weasleys borrow a tent for the Quidditch World Cup, it smells like cats! Also, wouldn't Dumbledore want a trusted witch near Harry when he's with the Muggles?

**The Elfin Child**: Ginny's actions become more Slytherin in this chapter! But I hope she doesn't get too out of character, so I'll try to put a lil of the old Ginny in following chapters (but if u don't want to, I won't lol)

The quote which I have added, is by the Roman poet Lucretius, who wrote amazing stuff about the nature of love. The translation of the Latin is: "The body strives for that which sickens the mind with love…Stretches out toward that which smites it, and yearns to couple." 

_Idque petit corpus mens unde est saucia amore: Unde feritur, eo tendit, gestitque coire_.—Lucretius.

                                                _Then let wrath remove;_

_                                                Love will do the deed:_

_                                                            For with love_

_                                                Stony hearts will bleed._

                                                                     George Herbert

Chapter Nine: Love and Wrath 

            Ron had a very grave look on his face when Ginny left Hermione's room after her brief visit. 

            "First I hear from Professor Lupin that she can speak Parseltongue. Now she's reading advanced books on the Dark Arts. I don't like it."

            Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, I'm a Parseltongue too, remember? Do I look evil to you?"

            Ron looked down. "No. You have that power only because you got it from You-Know-Who by accident. You weren't born with it. It's not in your blood. It's different."

            "How?" Harry asked, irritated.

            Ron shook his head. "It just is." Seeing Harry's unconvinced expression, he went on. "She's getting worse, Harry. Lupin told me she deliberately disobeyed him, right after giving him quite an attitude. She's never done _anything like that before. I thought she wanted to be Head Girl next year."_

            "I'm sure she probably feels awful about it. You saw her, she felt so guilty she barely wanted to talk to you, Ron. I don't think she'd change that much in so little time."

            "Lupin said she didn't feel sorry at all. She just became angry at Dumbledore and him before storming out of the Headmaster's office."

            "Wow," Harry said. He couldn't imagine a student ever yelling at Dumbledore—and Ginny had done it twice in two days.

            Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's arm and leaned her head on his shoulder in a comforting way. "Maybe our trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow will take your mind off all of this for a while. I'll help you pick out dress robes for our Graduation Ball."

            Ron immediately perked up his head—his blue eyes had gotten very wide. He glanced at Harry, who gulped awkwardly.

            "You—can't—come—to Hogsmeade—tomorrow," Ron said with tight evasiveness.

            "Why not?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

            "Because…." Harry's answer trailed off because he couldn't think of a good answer.

            "Because I doubt Ginny's going. I think part of her punishment was no trip this week. And I think maybe you should stay with her," Ron offered.

            " I don't think she'd want me," Hermione said doubtfully.

            "Just me being near her reminds her of everything and she wants to get away from it all. I think she'd be more comfortable with you. And you are of course a…"

            "A what?" Hermione asked, amused.

            "A girl."

 "Oh you finally noticed. That's nice."

For the first time that day, Ron smiled. "Damn right I noticed. I've noticed more than I should have, actually." He grinned mischievously, " I thought I proved it to you the other day in your room." The look he gave her made her blush furiously.  For an instant, Hermione glimpsed the good-natured, sweet boy she had fallen for, despite how upset all this craziness had made him. Ron continued. "And you're smart like her. She can relate to you more."

            Hermione was still skeptical. "You don't want me at Hogsmeade with you tomorrow. There's something you're not telling me."

            "If we're not telling you, then perhaps you shouldn't _know_ about it," Ron said.

            "Alright, alright. I'll stay. But only because I really _do want to stay by Ginny." Hermione had always been a good friend to Ginny, despite being different years; Ron had always admired her constant friendship and consideration of others—she never refused an opportunity to help people._

            "Right. It's settled, then," Ron said with finality.

            "I don't think so," Hermione said. "You guys need to get a few things for me. I need some ingredients for some potions I'm studying for my N.E.W.T.s." She shuffled through her bag and gave Harry a rolled up piece of parchment—it was about two feet long.

            "Is that all?" Ron asked.

            "Not really," she said, missing his sarcasm, "I only wrote down what I absolutely needed." 

            Harry shoved the parchment into Ron's hands. "Remember, she's _your girlfriend."_

                        __________________________________________

            As soon as Ginny walked into the room her confidence began to fail her; she wasn't used to being so unabashedly bold, and as soon as she realized that she was now alone in the bedroom of the most infamous young Slytherin in her school, and who could somehow give her all the powers she hoped for and feared, she couldn't help but be a little nervous. So, she began pacing. Then, surprised, she saw a bottle of what appeared to be an alcoholic drink. She picked it up.

 "Didn't I say not to touch anything?" 

She stared at him, her eyebrows raised. "This year Dumbledore forbid Fizzing Whizbees inside the school. So I doubt he'd ever let hard liquor."

"Elsinore liquor, actually. My father's favorite. It's made with the vapors of a last scream. They stopped producing it—but I found the one place where they still do. Lovely Christmas present, no?"

"You said the last scream?"

A frighteningly evil grin was twisting his lips. "The very last." Ginny's nervousness increased. He seemed to be relishing it. "One cup will knock you out of your senses."

            "Good. Then its exactly what I need right now." She began uncorking it when he grabbed the bottle from her.

            "I don't think so. This bottle is worth more than your family's entire house."

She pursed her lips. He just had to constantly remind her of her family, when he knew that was what would hurt her most. She was beginning to seriously doubt whether she was in the right place at the moment. "I must have gone completely mad," she murmured, both to herself and to him.

            "Why?" he said irritably. His arms had crossed—almost instinctively—across his chest.

            "Because I never thought in my wildest dreams I'd ever just walk into _your room, all alone."_

            "Yes, well, neither did I." His tone was almost bored. 

            Ginny reminded herself: she needed to break away from the wrong person they had made her to be—she had to. And he was the only way, despite how arrogant he was. "And I _never_ thought I'd ever ask you this but—I need your help."  
            Draco considered her for a moment and said, "Just because suddenly you're Slytherin's daughter doesn't mean I'm going to give you any special treatment. If I help you, what's in it for me?"

            Ginny was taken aback by his petulance. She had automatically assumed that just because she _was _the daughter of the bloody founder of his house, he would have been more interested in her. Then she thought that it was the reason he merely let her in and was willing to even consider her request. She smiled. If he wanted to act all Slytherin and devious, fine. Two could play at that game.

            She walked closer to him, close enough to trail a finger along his shirt. "Trust me. I'll make you an offer you'll never refuse."

            He seemed completely unruffled—it was amazing. "Do go on."

            "I need someone to help me get my powers."

            "And this someone would be me?" She nodded. "Why me?" he asked.

            "Let's just say a little snake told me."

            Draco raised an eyebrow, trying to look surprised. Truthfully, he wasn't. He had been expecting this; he grimly thought how happy his father would be watching this right now, watching through that confounded mirror, like an enchanted camera, taping everything that went on.

            "Do you even know what I need to _do_ to give you your powers?"

            "It's simple enough. I read about it in a book. I need to feel a series of emotions—strong ones, overwhelming ones. Emotions strong enough to awaken those powers which have been sleeping, hidden all these years. And I need someone to bring out those emotions in me."

She leaned in closer, making Draco even more uncomfortable than he already was. She stared at his lips—they contained whole new worlds, it seemed. She whispered in his ear. "And there's only one feeling I can think of that's more powerful and releasing than anything else. So I know _exactly what you have to do me."_

            Draco gulped. He couldn't bear the way she was looking at him, deeply and penetrating. He knew what she was picturing, what she was craving. Her eyes were as fiery as her hair. He knew those eyes were the same as Salazar Slytherin's.

            "I think I need a drink." 

            He was the one who uncorked the bottle, and poured a little of the liquid—blood red—into a small cup. He brought it to his mouth, but she grabbed it away so that some of it trickled onto his lips, and immediately the heat of the alcohol was accompanied by another heat—her lips. She was tasting the drink after all, tasting it the same time she was tasting him. Her mouth was moving furiously across his. He felt her tongue exploring his mouth and moving in ways he didn't think possible from her. She was pushing herself so hard against him he felt himself moving backwards until his back was struck with a momentary pain: he had hit the wall. 

                                    _________________________________

            "What was that?" Harry said, they heard a faint thump coming from the wall next to them.

            "That's the wall that separates my room from Malfoy's."

            "Hope he fell down and hurt himself real bad," Ron said bitterly.

            "I've never seen him do anything as awkward as tripping or falling down," Hermione mused.

            "I wonder if he's up to something?" Harry said.

            Ron went closer to the wall and leaned his ear against it. 'I'm hearing something, but I can't make out anything."

            Hermione's eyes lit up. She opened a drawer and pulled out what looked exactly like a clear, ordinary drinking glass.

            "What's that?" Harry asked.

            "It's a Sound Amplifier. A lot of muggles have accidentally come across them, hence the cliché you always see of holding up a glass to a wall to hear better."

            Ron stared at her, flabbergasted. "You use this to spy on Malfoy?"

            Hermione gaped. "Of course not. I only just got it from the post. Knowing you two, I thought it would come in handy."

            Ron stared at Harry and said matter-of-factly. "She uses it to spy on Malfoy." 

            Chuckling, Harry took it from her and gave it to Ron. He put it against the wall and listened.

            "Bloody 'ell!"

            "What?"

            "Sounds like Malfoy's—snogging someone!"

            Harry's green eyes widened. "You're kidding!"

            "Nope. Sounds like it's getting pretty hot and heavy. God, how disgusting."

            "What girl in their right mind would--" Hermione began.

            "Well I guess my broomstick isn't the only one in demand," Harry smirked at her. Hermione giggled.

            "What are you guys talking about?"

            "Er, Malfoy's broomstick. Apparently some people prefer his," Hermione said, smiling madly.

            Ron shook his head. "That makes completely no sense."

            "Yeah, he's an awful, slimy git."

            But apparently Ron hadn't gotten the joke yet. "No, he still has a Firebolt. Everybody knows Harry's new Mach1000 model is much better. His broomstick is faster, stronger, more flexible."

            Harry and Hermione were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes.

            "And—how—would—you—know, Ron?" Harry gasped.

            "Well I've ridden both, haven't I?" A fresh roar burst from the two. 

            Ron blinked at them. "You're both mental, you know."

            "Gimme that thing," Harry said, wiping the tears from his face. He grabbed the cup and listened.

            ___________________________________________

She had struck him against the wall, but she didn't care. Her hands were moving across his chest, her fingers stumbling over the buttons of his shirt. He felt his body reacting naturally to the sheer friction of it all: he cursed himself for being a boy. He couldn't help but give in, when he felt the sheer hunger and desire from her mouth. They were both breathing raggedly, gasping for breath.

            He raised one of her legs by the thigh and began unrolling her stockings. She had finally unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off him, trailing her lips along his neck. He undid her shirt--much more easily than she did with his—crept his hands onto her bare back and his mouth went to her chin to her neck to her chest. Her entire body was burning. Her fingers were sliding into his hair, and she let out a low moan from deep within her throat, gasped out his name.

                        __________________________________

            With the end of the glass to his ear, Harry heard it. The breathless voice which uttered Draco's name also named its owner. He heard it. Recognized it. Agonized over it.

            "I don't think we should listen to this anymore," he said.

"Any idea who the girl is, Harry?" Ron asked.

            He looked out blankly. "No. I have no idea."

                        _________________________________________

            Her breathing was coming out quicker. She felt his hands grabbing her back tighter and lifting her onto his bed. She fumbled with his belt buckle. When he felt her doing that, he moved away, slightly hesitant. Then he did something strange. He kicked the full-length round mirror next to his bed. It swung around on its hinges and flipped over, so that the reflecting side did not face them anymore.

            "Never mind that," he said hoarsely. Her lips went to his again. But in that instant he got a good look at her for the first time. There she was, half undressed, flushed, her hair falling over her face in long strands. But he noticed her skin—soft, white, untouched. The way she had no idea how to unbuckle his belt, the way she was trembling, how everything he was doing to her slightly surprised her, because he knew she had never felt anything like it before. He was suddenly struck how new this was to her, how virginal she still was, how innocent. 

            He broke away from her. "I don't think I can go through with this," he said.

            "No," she protested. 

            He stared at her. He knew that his father, as well as Voldemort, expected her powers to come out soon. There had to be some other way to do this. He saw her face contorted with disappointment and desire. Poor Ginny. She always wore her emotions on her sleeve, which always made it so much easier to manipulate her. Don't worry. She'll thank you for this later, he thought.

            "Ginny, I'm not doing this. I know you're going to regret this."

            "Why not? I _want _you to."

            "No you don't. Ginny, You don't know the things my father has done, things I've seen and done nothing about. You don't want anything to do with me."

            She grabbed him closer and looked at him tenderly. "I want everything to do with you."

            Draco shut his eyes. This wasn't going to be easy.

            "No you don't. I've barely even said a few words to you before, and I doubt they were very nice. You don't even know me, for Christ's sake." He let the first bomb drop. "This isn't like you, Ginny."

            Her eyes immediately narrowed with anger. That's it, Draco thought. "_I don't even know what I'm like, what in the hell makes _you _think you know? Why does everyone seem to know who I am except me?" she demanded._

            "Hey, it's not my fault you've been lied to and denied every important piece of information in your life. It's not my fault the Weasleys took you in merely because they were sick of having boys."

            She glared at him. "I absolutely hate you."

            "You have no idea, do you? You don't realize the life you should have lived. Helga Hufflepuff was the queen of her land. Slytherin eventually ended up conquering more land than any wizard in Britain. Think about it. You shouldn't have lived in a beat up, shabby house with broken walls and ceilings. You shouldn't have had to use second-hand, torn up textbooks. You shouldn't have ever worried about buying a dress that was a tad overpriced. You shouldn't have ever wished for something only to know you could never get it. You should have lived like a princess."

            There were tears in her eyes. "Shut up," she said.

            "People don't even know who Mr. Weasely is. They can't even remember his name right. You should have grown up in a time where everyone respected your father, where he was the most powerful wizard in the world. You should have lived in an age of chivalry, where dragons and unicorns were free to roam about wherever they pleased. Where witches and wizards didn't have to work to keep everything secret. Where the muggles were afraid of _us_."

            The anger was mounting, bubbling, increasing like mercury in a thermometer. "I _said, shut up."_

            "This is all their fault, you know. All those people you loved, who you _thought loved you."_

            She shook her head violently. "No, no its not. Voldemort traveled through time. He brought me here, not anyone else. It's his fault."

            Draco smiled. "But when he lost his powers, Dumbledore took you an what did he do to you? He put you in the hands of a powerless, poor family and told them to raise you completely ignorant, to be a restrained, weak little thing. He did that to you, when he _could_ have sent you back."

            "What?"  
            Here it comes, he thought. "He had the Time-Turner with him. I know because my father gave it to him; its what cleared our name and kept my father from being thrown into Azkaban."

            She was shaking her head, the tears were spilling. "You're lying!" she cried.

            "I'm not, but everyone else is. Look it up in the old Daily Prophets, if you want." Her face had gotten red, he could see the fury in her eyes. "That's right, Ginny. They all kept you from that life for no good reason. They lied to you. Dumbledore, your teachers, some of your brothers. They all lied—even those people who for sixteen years you called mother and father."

            "Stop it, I can't take it anymore!" she cried. Draco thought he felt his bed trembling a bit—maybe it was because he had started quivering because of what might happen.

            "Think about it, Ginny. Because of them, you will never, ever see them anymore. And they never saw you. They were never allowed to hold you, or treat you as you should have been, or give you the power and influence you deserved . You'll never be able to see them again, and they'll never see you. You'll never be able to know anything intimate about the life they lived, and worse yet, they'll never know anything about your life. And you know what's the worst thing of all, Ginny? When all other children lose their parents, they can at least go and visit their graves. Well, your parents have been dead for a thousand years. Even their graves are decayed and gone. And they died never knowing what happened to their daughter."

            "STOP!!" She exclaimed, and the wall began shaking violently. Her eyes were flashing, and then suddenly, a dark whirlwind seemed to clamp against Draco's chest. He felt like a thousand pounds had suddenly been thrown against his lungs. He was gasping for air that simply would not go in, choking, suffocating. The very air around him was compressing against his throat like a vise. His vision was fading, and everything suddenly became darker. He could sense a vile, evil presence, he could _feel_ it,  squeezing the life out of him and taking absolute delight in it. His lips were turning blue—the darkness was washing over him, he was fighting not to get lost in it. A few more seconds and he'd be dead…

            A terrified voice cried out, "_Finite Incatatem_!"

            And suddenly it all stopped. Like being drowned and suddenly being pulled out of the storm. The room was not spinning around any more. His vision became crystal clear. The air became normal, and he gulped it in like a fish released back into the water. He could breathe again. Inhale. Exhale. The air was cooperating with his lungs now. He realized he had dropped to the floor, and that his forehead was sweaty. He shakily got up and stared at Ginny who looked utterly horrified. She was gripping her arm and her wand at the same time, her tattoo glowing red as blood.

            He had done it. He looked up at her and gasped, "That was bloody brilliant, that was."

                                    ________________________________________


	10. The Sick Rose

**A/N**: Hi!! Once again, I won't be surprised if you all lynch me for the delay of this update. I apologize, really, really I do!!! Just that last week all my term papers piled up and I wrote the equivalent of about 30 pages in that week!!! (One involved writing a science fiction original story, which I may post even tho there's more science in it that fiction cause it was for an assignment.) Plus regular homework, overbearing parents, typing over a part of this chapter cause it mysteriously disappeared (shoots look at guilty looking little brother…) I'll try to keep posting sooner, and try to make the chappies shorter to post earlier. I hate making u wait more than u do!!!!!! Sorry!!! * looks pleadingly for forgiveness*

By the way, have any of u seen the Matrix movie? Can u explain to me what the hell was going on???? Sorry, I'm not fluent in science fiction geek. (although I still loved the first movie and this one too)

In this chapter: A few confrontations, all involving Ginny, Draco, and Hermione. Hope its good.

Thanks to my readers:

**B-Chan and Syaorons Angel**: You'll find out how Draco actually feels about Ginny in this chapter. I actually don't read Dr/Ginny that much either, I like Dr/herm much better, and I've also read a really good Ginny/Tom scene, so that can be really good too. Never really read Hr/ Tom, and Hr/Snape I might find weird, yet perhaps intriguing? Don't know. 

**D/H fanatic**: I kinda regret making Ron look so dense, he really isn't, and I actually planned on using that in a future chapter. Dr/Herm do discuss the whole thing w/ Ginny, u'll see. I agree, I am _not_ forgetting the Herm/Dr angle, I planned on making it one of the most imp aspects of this fic! Will Ginny keep on becoming more and more evil? Or will she come to her senses? Read to find out! Thank u (and ur basilisk) for reading and caring about this story. _You_ rock!

**Very Interested Reader**: I'm glad u like the Dr/Ginny angle so much, and u make a lot of good points, but there's one thing: the stories aren't finished yet, and only I know what's going to happen! I just wanted the Dr/Ginny thing to complicate his relationship w/ Hermione. As for the Dr/herm action in my other story, Fallen Angel, are you sure they'll end up together??? (Even I'm not sure at this moment, it's a lot more minor in the plot than in this story.) Anyways, I think the opposite things will happen between them in my two stories. 

Also, I do agree that there are a lot of clear similarities between Eve in FA and Ginny, and I slightly regret that. I want my characters to be original, and the similarities were actually quite accidental. But, yeah, if I were reading both stories and not writing them, I'd say the same thing, like I was reading the same character in two diff stories. But, u also don't know how either of the stories will turn out, and actually, they'll be a few key differences, esp at the very end of both stories. I don't want to give anything away, but I can tell you that Ginny isn't as completely powerful (sigh, I can't deny Eve is a lot like a Mary-Sue, but if u only read 1 Mary Sue in ur whole life, let it be Fallen Angel, its why people attempt Mary Sues in the first place!!!lol) Also. Ginny won't be so strong in terms of character and willpower (I think her personality isn't really strong in the books so far)

As for Hary being related to the Weasleys: again, u'll see y in the future! There is a point! Also, I wanted to show that coincidences like Lily's red hair are never "just coincidences" in the Rowling universe. Thank you for reading!

**Lucy:** Thank you so much!

**Trillium**: Ron won't be so thick in future chapters. Yes, I love sneaky Draco, its what he's best at.  Oh! I found a possible origin for Crookshanks' name. (The perks of being an English major…) Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote his famous supernatural poem "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" based on a dream of his friend named Cruikshank. Also, Coleridge was born in a place called Ottery St. Mary, which echoes the address of the Durselys, Ottery St. Catchpole. 

**Sir-Writes-A-Lot**: Yes! I did sneak in the last names of the actors in the hp movie. The first names of the two characters are those of my sisters, who both have a crush on them and were begging to be put in the story. Ah, creative license….Yes, I do have it all worked out, hope its original enough. Hope ur story is coming along well. Tell me when you post it.

**Iarejedi:** Thanks so much! I'm flattered. I'm trying to update as soon as possible, unfortunately, "as possible" is the part with problems….

**ElfinChild**: Yes, it would be scary, and I'm not sure if Ginny will end up w/Harry. Depends on how evil she gets….

**JediAmoira**: That's exactly how I wanted that chapter to be! Emotional and intense. I really, really, hope I'm getting better at this writing thing, hopefully Ill get good enough to make money out of it.

Note: I love how William Blake can be so short and sweet and still speak volumes. O love it when people do that. Once a group of writers made a little contest over who could write the most profound story in the fewest number of words. The winner was a chap called Hemingway. (Ever heard of him?) He wrote: For Sale. Baby Shoes. Never used.

All I can say is—wow. 

_The Sick Rose_

_O Rose, thou art sick._

_The invisible worm_

_That flies in the night_

_In the howling storm_

_Has found out thy bed _

_Of crimson joy,_

_And his dark secret love_

_Does thy life destroy. _

_                        William Blake_

Chapter Ten: The Sick Rose 

            It was as if Ginny's face had frozen—locked into that look of horror and disbelief and indecision: she wanted to come near him and at the same time it seemed like she was too terrified to touch him.

            "Oh my God….Are you alright?" she whimpered, half in tears.

            Draco managed to get up, one hand still on his chest, and his hair tumbled all over his face. "I'm fine," he gasped.

            She finally collected enough courage to come near him.

            "Are you sure? Are you positive I didn't hurt you?"

            He gave a weak smile. "Don't flatter yourself."

            "What…What just _happened_?"

            "You now fully possess all your Slytherin powers. Congratulations. Welcome to the Dark Side," he said, although his tone had no congratulation or even any amusement.

            "Are you sure?" She repeated.

            "You just bewitched the very air itself to slowly choke the life out of me. Only the most advanced Dark Wizards can do anything remotely like that—and you did it unconsciously. So yeah, I'm pretty damn sure."

            "But…But when I tried to make it stop, I couldn't. I had to use my wand."

            "Maybe the only wandless magic you can perform is Dark Magic."

 She sat limply on his bed, trying to even begin to take it all in.

            "I can't believe I just did that," she whispered.

            "What, kill me? Don't worry about that. Knowing me, I suppose I have to get used to that."

            "No," she smiled. "I can't believe I almost _slept _with you."

            "Ah, that," he said, unperturbed. "I suppose I have to get used to people trying to do _that to me as well."_

            Ginny was shaking her head. "Honestly, I have no idea what's coming over me. I mean, I  never even _kissed anyone before."_

            "Yeah, right. Some of the stuff you pulled back there was the work of a seasoned professional."

She smiled. "I guess us Slytherins just have a natural talent for these things." She looked deeply into his eyes again. 

 Draco looked away. Her shirt was still unbuttoned, her stockings still lying on the floor.      
"Do you always try to murder those you also want to seduce?"

"Only if I really like them," she said with a wry smile. But it quickly vanished at his silence. "So all that,…you just did all that to give me my powers, didn't you?"

"Well, that was the initial motive, yes."

"But you could have just gone along, let me have my way. I'm sure it would have been

an amazing conquest, bragging about how you shagged Slytherin's daughter, how she literally threw herself to you."

            "Yeah, I could have. And it probably would have worked at getting your powers just as well."

            "Then why didn't you?"

            "Honestly, I really appreciate the total confidence in my morals." But then he oddly closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. "And, I just couldn't do that to you, alright? Don't ask me why, but I couldn't hurt you like that."

            Ginny stared at him. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him tightly. This came as a minor shock. Then he realized why—he had never been hugged by anyone before.

            "Thank you," she said, although her voice was a bit muffled. She looked up and smiled at him. "Thank you, for turning me on…for pissing me off…"

"Once you see the stuff you can do, I'm not sure you'll still want to thank me."

She shook her head. "I know everything's happening too fast, but I still mean what I said before."

"About what?"

"About wanting everything to do with you. What do you think about that?"

"I feel the same way."

"So you'll…?"

"No. I feel the same way about everything happening too fast. Way too fast."

She closed her eyes, squeezing out the tears. "What's wrong with that?" she gulped.

"I just don't know whether its me you want, or a consolation over your life being torn apart; or worse yet, a consolation over not being able to get who you _really want."_

She shook her head, "No, you can't still believe that I--"

"You said it yourself. You don't know what's going on with you. So maybe you should wait…until you do. Trust me—Malfoys are not the people you want to make mistakes with." 

Ginny gave him a piercing stare that gradually chilled. "I guess not."

Draco looked down. "Maybe this whole—thing—was a mistake."

Suddenly she had the slightest hint of a smirk. "If mistakes feel that good, maybe I should make them more often." She looked up at him. "Don't worry. I'm really thankful, and I'm in your debt. Which is a good thing to have over the daughter of Salazar Slytherin." He chuckled softly at this. She went on. "What you did today…it was anything but a mistake."  She leaned in and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek, and then looked into his eyes, her hand resting on the side of his chin longer than it should have. She bit her lip. "I'd better go, then."

"Yeah, I think you should," he whispered hoarsely. She let go of him, grabbed her shoes and stockings with a bit of a smile, and walked out the door, but not before giving him one last look, the kind that stays with you after the person has left.

After she left, he let out a huge sigh. He just had a wildly hot encounter with Slytherin's daughter, nearly died, and then rejected her, all in minutes. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Jesus," he muttered.

                        _________________________________

The boys had already left Hermione's room leaving her wondering what in the name of Merlin they were possibly planning for tomorrow's trip to Hogsmeade. Then her wondering led her to a new, more intriguing topic: who the girl was in Draco's room. Almost immediately after the boys left she had rushed to the wall herself, ear pressed eagerly against the glass. Why she was doing this she had no idea: she knew it couldn't possibly be jealousy (of course not, hell would freeze over before that). Perhaps it was just a sort of morbid curiosity to see what girl had such  disgustingly awful taste. 

Then the yelling had become so loud she scarcely needed the cup to hear anything. Draco must have been insulting her (how typical, she thought), and the girl was practically screaming for him to stop it. But when the walls started shaking, she backed away, frightened, holding her breath for something devastating to happen—but nothing did. The walls suddenly stopped moving as soon as they started. How odd, she thought. She remembered Draco's voice saying something about her parents, her family…And in an instant a horrible, awful thought popped in her head. 'No, it couldn't possibly be…_No_!' she denied. It couldn't have possibly been true, she felt ashamed for even considering it. 'Ginny liked people like Harry, and you couldn't get farther from Harry than Draco, I mean Malfoy,' she corrected herself. Ginny would never, ever…then again, the voice did sound remarkably familiar, she mused. '_No!' she screamed in her head. 'What kind of friend are you?' She thought, 'Don't you believe in her judgment at all?'_

'No, I don't,' another voice nastily answered, 'Not after all that's happening with her.'

She hesitantly went to the wall again, and heard the door being opened. 'Bingo!' she thought. She ran to her own door, and opened it the tiniest crack to catch a glimpse of the mystery girl.

Her heart stopped. She couldn't see the face, but the hair was enough to give it away. She turned, and her worst fears were confirmed; she saw Ginny, her freckled face slightly ruddy and shiny with tears, and she was hastily buttoning up her shirt. Hermione closed the door slowly and stood with her back against the wall for a long while. She agonized over whether or not to tell Ron. 

A sudden knock on the door made her heart seem to jump out of its ribcage. Dreading who it was, she opened the door very slowly.

It was Ginny, her arms crossed and her eyes slightly narrowed—she looked strikingly older and even a little dangerous.

"Ginny, is there something wrong?" she tried controlling her voice that was shaking quite uncontrollably.

"Cut the bullshit, Hermione. We both know what just happened. I don't appreciate being spied on." Oddly enough, Hermione found her so intimidating she felt like panicking. Why?

"I…I…" her nerve failed her—she knew she couldn't deny anything and sound credible. "Ginny, I won't tell Ron, I promise."

"You know what? I don't _care. Go ahead and tell him. Go ahead. It doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter. Do you know __why?"_

 Hermione could barely speak. "Why?"

"Because for once in my life I'm going to do what I want to do, and not what my teachers want me to do, not what my brothers want me to do, not what my so-called _parents want me to do."_

"Ginny you're going to hurt yourself if you keep on acting like this. You're going to hurt those who love _you."_

"You know, I've realized that everybody I end up loving or falling in love with has never truly loved me back. And I'm sick of it."

"Ginny you know that's not true."

"It's not? Don't you think if they loved me, they'd love me enough to think I deserved to know the truth?"

"What about Ron, Ginny? He had no idea about all this, and he loves you so much."

Ginny tried choking back tears. Possibly hurting Ron would have been the only thing keeping her from doing anything—the only thing that would truly wrench her. "That's true. But I never said there wouldn't be any innocent victims. Look at what happened to _me. However, unlike everybody else, I love him enough to not hide anything." She paused. "That's right. So if you're not going to tell him, I'm going to myself."_

"But Ginny, he'll…I don't know what he'll do. Not to you, but to Malfoy..."

"I'm going to tell him that he helped me get my powers—and that's all."

"That's all?"

This time the tears dropped—she couldn't help it. "I told you. Everybody I care about never really loves me, _remember?"_

"So you and Malfoy….."

"No. Not anytime soon, anyway." She had a faraway look on her face. "Maybe I should _stop_ caring about people. Then that way they'll care about me."  

"Oh Ginny--"

"But I can tell you one thing, Herm," she said, oddly smiling.

"What?"

"He's an _amazing_ kisser. God, he just--"

Hermione held up a hand. "Ginny, spare me the gory details. I have a very passionate affliction for Malfoy. Just thinking about you and him…it's going to disturb my sleep."

Ginny's smile widened. "At least its passionate, whatever it is." Her smile turned even more wicked. "Even though I don't believe you."

"What, you think I fancy that disgusting, foul, pompous, self-absorbed--"

"Destructively hot…"

"Destructively hoooo……_No!"_

"C'mon, you were gonna say it, admit it."  
            "No I wasn't you caught me off guard."

"No, I caught you in a Freudian slip."

"Listen, I have a boyfriend. What could I possibly find attractive in him? I absolutely hate Malfoy!"

"Then why were you so keen on spying on him?"

"The walls were shaking! I wanted to know what the hell was happening!"

"Oh, and I'm sure you weren't using _that," Ginny said, pointing to the glass on the table. "You told me you were ordering one a few weeks ago, remember?"_

Hermione was angrily silent for a while before she said, "I know his Death Eater initiations should be starting soon. So I wanted to get something on that awful git to get him in trouble. Stone me, why don't you?"

"Alright, Hermione. Whatever you say. I don't blame you actually, if you put it that way, especially all the crap he's put you guys through."

Hermione softened. "I'm sorry for what I said. You're old enough to do what you want, and you deserve to be with whoever you please." An odd silence followed. Hermione wondered if she should continue. "After what happened…Do you think you're going to be alright?"

Ginny smiled. "I've never been better."

            ___________________________________

Hermione was simply dumbfounded by the whole thing. At this time, she knew Ginny was very vulnerable—it would be the perfect time for a creep like Malfoy to take advantage of her. She wondered what he had in store for her in his evil, twisted little plans. She only knew it somehow involved him giving her powers (obviously), and making her fancy him; but then why would he reject her? Thinking about it all made her head hurt. She figured it would be no use for her to try and think like Malfoy. If only she could somehow find out…have him tell her…Yeah right, she might as well try to get Snape to adopt Neville.

Snape…potions…A light bulb flashed in her head. If she could somehow get Malfoy to drink a truth potion, if she asked him, he would have no choice but to tell her!

A wave of despondency came over her. The last thing she wanted was to go near Malfoy again. But Ginny's safety depended on it. She pulled out the tiny vial of Veriteserum from her desk, the one she had made in case of emergencies (she had acquired a lot of little potions and things for "just in case." She figured it was an inevitable side effect of being friends with Harry Potter.)  

Her mind was racing for ideas on how to trick Malfoy…she figured she could start now, go to his room, study him, on the pretense of being mad at him for being with Ginny.

But then another knock on the door made her jump, causing her to drop the vial.

                                    __________________________

"Who is it?" she breathlessly called out, while she bent over to pick the vial—fortunately it had fallen on the rug and hadn't broken. There was no answer, just another knock.

She took a few steps, opened the door and couldn't believe her eyes—fate had delivered Malfoy right to her doorstep. She was so shocked she slammed the door in his face, muffling his outcry of "Hey!"

The door opened by itself, and she saw that this time his smile had vanished, and that he clutched his wand in his hand.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Are you Gryffindors always this nice to visitors?"

"Only when they're evil dark wizards."

"Of course. In fact, I just came back from a nice ritual sacrifice of baby lambs. Perhaps you should come with me next time," he drawled as if he were inviting her to the governor's ball. Then his casual tone turned nasty. "I'm sure the Death-Eaters will have a spiffing good time with _you."_

Hermione stared at him, her teeth clenched. "I _know where you were just now, and I also know about your sick ideas of what having a good time means." _

"Spying on me, are you? I didn't know you cared." His smile instantly disappeared. "Actually, I did. And I came to warn you to stay out of other people's business."

"Ginny is my friend—therefore she is very much my own business. Stay away from her—she's had enough people take advantage of her."

"Or what? You'll unleash her big, strong brother on me? You know I could kill him in an instant, if I wanted to."

"Oh, are you simply waiting until graduation so you won't be expelled?"

"Yes, actually. But don't worry, he means too much to Ginny. So your boyfriend's safe."

"Stop pretending to care about her."

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I just might not be pretending?"

"You never paid much attention to her before. And now that she's suddenly Slytherin's daughter, you so conveniently care about her. You can't wait to turn your charms on her."

"Actually, _she_ couldn't wait to jump into bed with me. And yes, I could have done anything I wanted with her. But I didn't."

"Why not?"  
            "Well, I don't know Ginny very well, but is it in her usual nature to barge into a room, rip her clothes off, and start snogging a boy she's barely even spoken to before?"

"No," then the slightest upward curl twisted her lips. "Usually there's _two_ guys in there with her." She became serious. " No, of course not. Which means I don't believe a word you're saying. You probably tricked her into it somehow. I've noticed how you've asked Snape about love potions after classes."

His mind flashed back to the potion he had dropped to the floor in front of his father. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're a liar," she spat. "And don't think I won't tell Dumbledore. What happened right now with the walls shaking? You brought out her full powers, didn't you? I'm telling him you're up to something. I wouldn't be surprised if he expelled you for doing something he's been trying to prevent for years."

She had a point. " Listen, I had to do that to her, alright? Trust me, I don't want to hurt her, okay? In fact, I'm trying to do the opposite."  
            "Stop insulting my intelligence. You're a bloody liar, and you know it. And you're going to pay for it."

"For once your intelligence has failed you, Granger. You're horribly mistaken, and its just too bad there's no way I can convince you."

She inwardly smiled. "Yes, there is. You could take a truth potion."

His eyes flashed. "_No way. I'm not stupid."_

"What are you hiding, Malfoy?"

"C'mon, Granger. Don't tell me _you would take a Veritaserum potion with me asking you anything I want."_

"I will if you will. We'll make it fair, you answer one question, I'll answer another one. If not, I'm going straight to Dumbledore and you'll have to try and save your ass in front of _him."_

She knew it was slightly crazy, then again, what did she have to hide from Malfoy? Dumbledore already knew everything about Harry, and she couldn't remember the last time she broke a major rule he'd be suspicious about.

            Draco had no idea what to do. The truth was, he was trying to save Ginny, and he did care for her. But he also knew too much about Voldemort's--and his father's—plans.  Then again, he would have to take a truth potion from Dumbledore, and he was much more likely to ask more probing questions about his father. Besides, he would be able to get some juicy secrets from Granger in the meantime.

            "Alright," he said, doubting his sanity. Sex, liquor, and death could really addle a person's brains, he thought.

            She took out the vial. "You first," she said. He grabbed it, dropped a few drops into his mouth, handed it to her. She did the same. She felt a strange sensation come over her mouth, somehow directly connecting it to her heart, as if clamping it open, waiting for everything to pour out once it had the chance.

            "What do you plan on doing with Ginny?"

            "I want to save her from Voldemort," he plainly said. Her mouth dropped open. 

            "The night Sirius Black escaped, did you have anything to do with it?"

            Shit, she thought. "Yes," she murmured.

            "Ha! Looks like I'll be the one getting _you expelled, Granger." _

            She smiled. "He knows about it already." She fought to keep out the words 'It was his idea.' Instead, she said, "He didn't expel us because Sirius is innocent." 

He was silent. She took advantage of the moment. "Do you love Ginny?"

            "No," he said, regretfully, "but I do care about her. I'm not sure why."

            " Cause she's Slytherin's daughter?"

            "That's part of the reason. The other part is I simply don't want to see her hurt more."

            This was all so strange to Hermione. He surprised her by asking, "Would you ever shag Weasley?"

            Her eyes widened and she blushed incredibly. "Not anytime soon, at least. Although I know I could easily fall in love with him." She was surprised at her own words, and let herself continue. "He's incredibly kind and sweet. And he makes me laugh." She took a deep breath. "And I know he'll never hurt me." She smiled, "So, in short, everything about him that's the exact opposite of _you_."

            He wasn't surprised. She said, smiling, "Alright, you're not the only person who can ask questions about love lives." He internally smiled—switching the topic of the questions away from Voldemort had hopefully worked. Good.

            "Malfoy….Are you a virgin?" 

            Shit, not good. He closed his eyes, as if it would help him clench in the answer. 

            "No, please don't make me answer that."

            "You have to." She smiled. "Are you a virgin?"

            "That's evil, that is." 

            "Exactly. Well, are you?"

"Y-Yyess," he said through gritted teeth. She laughed out loud. 

            He looked at her disdainfully. "Sorry, but not anyone is good enough for a Malfoy." 

"It's just that I was sure you would have…you know…."

            He stared at her.  She became much more uncomfortable. "I mean all the Slytherin girls are insane over you…not too mention a substantial number of the girls in all the other houses,"

she said shiftily.

            "Even Gryffindor?"

            "Y-yes…I mean you are rich and mysterious and deceptively suave …and…and…attractive…to _some_ at least," she murmured.

            An extremely narcissistic smile crossed his face. "Alright, now for my question."

            "No, you just asked me one. You asked if girls in Gryffindor fancy you, and I answered. Now its my turn."

            "But you asked two questions in a row. You asked if I love Ginny, then you asked if I care about her only because she's Slytherin's daughter: that's two. It's only fair I get two questions. And you know what I'm saying is true cause I'm _saying_ it under the influence of this potion."

            "Alright. Go on, then."

            Obviously, he was relishing what he was about to ask. "Do _you_ find me attractive?"

            Her brain was screaming to her lips, 'No!" but they wouldn't form the word. She gulped. "I…guess…so. It's your hair. I have a thing for blondes." 'And gray eyes. And muscles,' she thought, and wanted to slap herself.

            His smile was utterly unbearable. "Wait 'till I tell Weasley."

            "That doesn't mean anything, Malfoy. I would never in my right mind, ever, want to have to do anything with you. Just because I'm more inclined to have a physical attraction to blondes doesn't mean I like _you in a romantic way." He froze for a split second, but covered it up. _

            Now it was time for her revenge. "How do you really feel about _me_, Malfoy?"

            Uh oh, the one question he was dreading almost as much as a question about Voldemort's or his father's plans. His mouth was ready to spill everything—how he envied her intelligence, her work ethic, her loyalty, how beautiful he thought she was.

            "I know….I know you're more than just a Mudblood. And sometimes….sometimes I wish I had people I could rely on like the way Potter and Weasley have you," he choked out.

            Her face softened into a curious look of disbelief. She was silent— it was obviously not the answer she had expected. 

Draco's cheeks were tinged with pink. "Can we stop with the questions, now?" She nodded, but distractedly. He wondered what she was thinking in reaction to her answer. He felt like his insides, which were squirming a second before, had completely vanished. Was she actually intrigued? The thought and all its consequences, was harrowing.

                        _____________________________________

            Ginny was crouching in the dark, a small lamp shaking in her hand. She was in the library, praying that Filch would not catch her—but this could not wait. She had to know for sure, immediately. Her fingers leafed through pages and pages of old daily prophets, about sixteen years old. She trailed her finger across various headlines, her eyes scanning the pages. Then all the motion in her brain halted, her heart seemed to skip a beat. She found what she was looking for.

                                    **Charges Against Malfoy Family Cleared **

            _Accusations and charges that Lucius Malfoy had deliberately served You-Know-Who in the days of his power have officially been dropped. Malfoy contended that he had been acting under the infamous Imperius Curse, against his own will, and to prove that he has recently released a number of items previously belonging to You-Know-Who to the Ministry of Magic. The items, who are currently in possession of Albus Dumbledore, include_….(her eyes scanned the long list of cursed items, deadly poisons, and such. Listed at the very end, she read: ) 

_And finally, a one-of-a-kind TimeTurner once belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw herself, which has the ability to go back thousands of years._

            She tried fighting the tears, but this time nothing could be denied. It was true. Malfoy had been right. Suddenly her despair turned to anger, an anger that ran all throughout her like poison.

                                    ______________________________


	11. A Bit of Investigation

**A/N: Hi!! If anybody is still reading this after a month's delay, bless you!!!!  The fanfiction gods shall reward you for your loyalty (I hope).  But now that I am no longer swamped with finals and term papers, I hope I can update sooner. (If I'm not tired after a nice dip in the pool—just kidding).  Oh yeah, I was also busy for a week reading the long awaited fifth book!!!!!!!! I just hope if people can wait three years for it, u guys could wait a month for an update (although I promise it will never happen again, so please do not let any dogs or pet basilisks loose on me). Um, also, since I already finished, the fifth book, I might subconsciously slip in a few hints of it, nothing major to give anything away. If you guys have read it, let me know what you think!!! I personally liked it, although I'm still in shock over a few things that happened; *Wrenches away her fingers from keyboard to keep from typing anything more on the subject* **

Now for individual thanks and responses (for all those I haven't lost due to my unforgivable delay):

**Iarejedi: Hey, it takes me so long to update that I don't mind so much how long it takes for reviews to show up, as long as they do, so I can know ur still reading and still email u. Oh and as you said, if the Matrix did anything, it was that it kicked butt, as you said, lol, although now that seems old since this update is late.**

**Anya: I hope u still read this! If Hermione drank the potion in the 1st chappie, I wouldn't have a story!!! Sorry for making u guys wait so long to see how it happens, but doesn't that make it more interesting?? Or does absence make the heart grow colder?**

**JediAmoira: hmm, maybe Draco believing what Herm said about Dumbledore might be a bit farfetched, but remember, Draco isn't used to trusting Dumbledore as much as the Gryffindors**

**Very Interested Reader: Hope u get the email this time.. Wow, all those philosophical points you made, that were so great they got my head spinning, especially since I did a report on time travel and warping time using actual physics (it can be done!), so u get in all these paradoxes and how to resolve them and trying to figure out whether fate (or even time) is fixed or not.**

Thanx for clearing up a few things about the movie, it helped actually.  By the way, 1984 is on my list of books I really want to read.   
Now about the story, I really love how u appreciate little details; Rowling is also good at describing details, part of what makes her wonderful. About ur comment, similar to JediAmoira's, and also another one of those great point u  bring up, I thought perhaps Draco would be more likely to see Dumbledore as suspicious, I mean, he does know his father is a Death Eater. Just because Draco believed it about Dumbledore doesn't mean he would actually do that (I doubt it, actually). But maybe it still might have been a stretch for him to believe it. 

But I do wish a truth potion existed—as Conrad said, there is something fatal in a lie, something that reminds us of our own mortality, but even if we despise it, everyone does it.

Thank u thank u for reading both my stories so diligently, and giving great reviews!

**Picklesweatyhead: Please be still reading this!!! You don't like Ron??? He's one of my fav characters, although hes a bit better in the books than in this story (so far).**

**B-chan and Syaorons Angel: Request granted, it won't happen again. Thank u for letting me know what you think, keep on doing so. I want all my readers to _enjoy_ reading this story. Thanks for reading so far and reviewing every chapter!**

**Trillium: Yes, innocence can be attractive, that's one thing I think that endeared people to Harry in the first place, but I also like how he's a bit darker and angrier in the later books. He's not perfect, and he's a teenager, after all. **

**LilJudie: Thank you! I'm trying to continue as fast as possible!**

**D/H fanatic: Hope I'm still safe from ur, uh, pet, hehe. I also hope u still get happy about this update. Surprised at some of Draco's answers in the last chapter? Good. And yes, I would also do anything for him to flash that patented smile at me. (Have u ever seen 10 Things I Hate About You? Heath Ledger in that movie does a great job with those kind of smiles, **tries not to melt in a puddle**)**

To everyone else reading: Thank you for reading, and if you'd like an individual response to anything as well as an email when I update (which I will always do, no matter how delayed, I am determined to finish these stories), please, please don't hesitate to review, u will all feel very proud knowing u personally talked to me, a future best selling author (yeah right). Hehe

Note: the poem kind of relates to the story in later chappies as well. And I only printed the first and last stanzas. I love how Byron can be hilarious in some poems, and unabashedly romantic in others. 

When we two parted

                                    _In silence and tears,_

_                                    Half broken-hearted_

_                                    To sever for years,_

_                                    Pale grew thy cheek and cold,_

_                                    Colder thy kiss;_

_                                    Truly that hour foretold_

_                                    Sorrow to this. _

_                                    In secret we met—_

_                                    In silence I grieve,_

_                                    That thy heart could forget,_

_                                    Thy spirit deceive._

_                                    If I should meet thee_

_                                    After long years,_

_                                    How should I greet thee!—_

_                                    With silence and tears._

_                                                                        Lord Byron_

**Chapter Eleven: A Bit of Investigation**

Late next morning, nearing afternoon, Hermione was sitting on one of the soft, worn couches in the Gryffindor common room. She heard footsteps coming slowly down the stairs. Finally, she thought.

"What are you still doing here?" Ginny asked, a little more irritably than she wanted to. It was just that she was slightly surprised to see Hermione there, when everyone else had gone to Hogsmeade; that and she was still angry with what she found out last night in the library. She was too angry to even come out of her room until the morning had been almost over.

"I'm here to keep you company," Hermione said cheerfully, closing her book.

"More like to watch over me and make sure I don't get into trouble, right?"

"No," she denied. "I just…didn't feel like going to Hogsmeade."

"C'mon. You have N.E.W.T.S. coming up. I'll be damned if you don't need any ingredients or supplies to help you study."

Hermione sighed in resignation. "Alright, alright. I did want to go. But Ron and Harry wouldn't let me come. I think they're planning something for me…I just don't know what. And I thought I'd might as well spend the day with you."

She still looked doubtful. " Aren't you a bit…upset over what I said last night? I admit I was a bit…_mean."_

"Never you mind that. You apologized, didn't you? That's enough. Plus, I shouldn't have been spying on you."

Ginny came and gingerly sat down on the couch next to her. For an instant, Hermione glimpsed the happy, sweet girl she once knew. "So, what's on the agenda for our little girl's day out?"

Hermione smiled and held up the book she was reading, entitled, _Everything You Never Knew but Knew You'd Love to Know About Famous Witches in History._

"I thought maybe we could research your….er, parents. There's a load of books on the founders of Hogwarts. I have them reserved in the library. Want to come?"

She didn't quite feel like going back in there, but she was quite curious about knowing about her parents' lives. "Alright, let's go," she said. She thought perhaps researching a bit would give her more questions to ask when she would meet Dumbledore. She planned on giving him a not-so-pleasant visit. She had sent him an owl requesting to speak with him.

In the library, she read up a little on the life of Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. Hermione was keen on finding some interesting facts on Rowena Ravenclaw: powerful, brave and very, very intelligent, Rowena was somewhat of a role model for her.

"That's weird," Hermione said, blinking at the book in front of her.

"What?" Ginny asked. 

"It says here the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff on the following page was painted during a visit to Malfoy Manor in May of 993 A.D."

"What would she be doing in Malfoy Manor?" Ginny asked.

"I'm more interested in the time it was painted. In History of Magic, as well as in a few other books, it says that Helga Hufflepuff was in Norway at the time, working on the Mandrake Healing potion. The exact date of her finalizing of that potion is the same as the date of the painting."

"Maybe she Apparated in the same day. You know, get a portrait to celebrate her discovery."

"I doubt you can Apparate that far. And why Malfoy Manor? Why would she go there? There's no documentation of her having any connection with the Malfoy family any time before that day."

"Hmmmm," Ginny said. "Perhaps the portrait is a fake one. Maybe she was never really there."

Hermione thought for a moment, then exclaimed, "Oh!" She got up and began searching the aisles of books urgently. Ginny looked at her curiously. Hermione came back, holding a dark, old, tattered book in her hand.

"The memoirs of Salazar Slytherin! He was related to the Malfoys, maybe he was at their Manor at the time," Hermione said, as she flipped through the book, her eyes scanning the pages. "990, 991, 992…February…March….April…Ah, May." She flipped a few more pages, then she traced her fingers down a page, then stopped.

"See here." She read out loud. "_May 12. Today, quite unexpectedly, I met my dear Rowena who was accompanied only by a lovely woman with flowing red hair and blue eyes. She said her name was Helga Hufflepuff. I obliged the ladies to stay at my cousin's Manor, as it is not fit for ladies of such stature to roam around the country unescorted by anyone who would offer them protection. It seemed to me that perhaps they even traveled a bit dressed as men, as they were wearing strange clothes, and Rowena seemed to be wearing some odd form of trousers. The two ladies were acting quite strangely in general. Rowena treated me as if I were a complete stranger, even though I have known her and Godric since childhood. Her acquaintance, on the other hand, displayed a keen interest in me, to the point where she would stare at me quite inappropriately. She had seemed so taken with me that my cousin Malfoy became quite jealous, I might say. I told him that he had nothing to worry about; that the woman I loved would soon be mine, and I had no interest in Lady Hufflepuff, but if, in courting her friend, he would offend my own dear Rowena in any way, he would be quite sorry indeed. The arrogant fool laughed in my face, reminding me that he owned the land we were standing on. I let him have his way, to enjoy whatever he had while he still owned it, never knowing what I had in store for him in the future." _

"So, it seems that Slytherin, my father, fancied Rowena. But my mother fancied Slytherin," Ginny said. It all seemed like a soap opera set in the Middle Ages.

 "That means my mother was really there, not in Norway," Ginny said.

"But there are numerous eyewitness accounts of her work on healing potions in Norway. She writes about them in her own memoirs. They both have an equal chance of being true. But she can't have been at two places in the same time. This is all very strange," Hermione said, thoughtfully.

"Maybe she time traveled!" Ginny said.

"No, Rowena Ravenclaw was the one who pioneered time traveling. I doubt Helga knew much about it." She paused. "Then again, I wasn't there, how could I know for sure?" Hermione said.

"I need to mull this over in the back of my head for a while. Why don't we start a bit on homework? You can help me with some stuff for N.E.W.Ts next year." Ginny asked. Hermione heartily agreed. She wanted to spend as much time as possible keeping her busy safely studying.

However, the study session turned out to be nerve racking. Ginny would constantly find it hard to concentrate, not remembering a thing Hermione would explain to her; she was forced to repeat herself so many times that she wanted nothing more to stop and leave her on her own. But she knew that the reason for her distraction was exactly why she should keep her on focus—she didn't want Ginny to relapse into a bitter recalling of everything that had happened so far.

Suddenly, Ginny slammed the book she was reading. "Well, anyway, I'm a bit tired of this. I think we should go and do something else. Something fun."

"What?" Hermione asked. But Ginny answered her only with a sly smile.

                        __________________________________

"I should have known you would have talked me into something like this," Hermione muttered; but if anyone would have happened to look at her at that moment they would have seen her talking to nobody in particular.

"C'mon, Harry won't have to know that we stole his Invisibility Cloak. I know its his dad's, I promise I won't do anything to it," Ginny whispered from under the cloak.

"I'm more afraid something might happen to us," Hermione said. "If we're caught…"

" I'll say I forced you. You'll stay Head Girl, don't worry your drawers off."

Hermione rolled her eyes. The only reason she was going with Ginny in the first place was that she wanted to keep an eye on her. But the fact that she was sneaking off was no surprise. Even before, she would always sneak off and fly her brother's brooms without them noticing her.

"Besides," Ginny whispered, "aren't you a bit curious to see what the boys are up to? I could spy on them, if you'd like." Hermione heard her voice deepen with slyness and pleasure when she said this.

"No, I think that if Ron wanted it to be surprise, then it should stay that way."

"Are you sure that he just doesn't want you to see what he's up to? That he's not really getting a surprise for you?"

Hermione halted. "Ginny!" she cried, immediately followed by a disembodied "Sshh!!!" next to her. She lowered her voice. "You know Ron better than I do. How could you say something like that?"

"I didn't mean anything like…you know…Maybe he's just buying something illegal, or doing something you generally might disapprove of. I know the boys sometimes go and buy firewhiskey and you never let him 'cause he was a prefect."

"You want to get your own brother in trouble?" Hermione said. Ginny was silent; it was true that Ron was the last person she wanted to get in trouble. He seemed like one of the few people she could still trust. And she knew Hermione knew that.

             "Oh this is silly. You just want to go to Hogsmeade and have fun when you're not supposed to," Hermione said,

            "Alright, I do. So what? I got punished only for reacting naturally to something _they_ have put me through."

            "Please. You don't see Harry acting up because his parents are dead, do you?"

            Silence answered her. Hermione walked, but stopped when she realized the sound of footsteps next to her had stopped.

'Ginny, I'm sorry if I offended you--"

"If you don't want to come, that's perfectly fine," came the cold answer.

"No, I want to. Honestly."

"Alright then. And don't give me that rubbish about what a saint Harry is. You know better than I do about his temper. How many times has he exploded at you when all you wanted to do was help him?"

Hermione was silent. This was true. And she knew that Ginny knew how much it hurt her. And that was why she was saying it now. Hermione became worried: Ginny never liked deliberately hurting anyone before.

They walked quietly up to Filch, who was standing next to the entrance hall of the castle. He raised a bushy eyebrow at Hermione.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked.

"I had a bit of studying to do. Can I still go? My name is on the list of all those who have permission." Hermione said with a bit of defiance. She tried not looking at the seemingly empty air at her side.

Filch checked the list and muttered angrily to himself. It looked like he was trying hard to fins an excuse not to let her go, but couldn't find one. 

" I know something is going on, Granger. How come you didn't go with your friends?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I told you--"

"Alright!" he barked, but eyed her suspiciously. "I suppose you can go. But I'll have my eye on you. Mind you, it will be a terrible thing for the Head Girl to be expelled," he said with a nasty smile.

"I know that, Mr. Filch," she said in a falsely sweet voice. "Don't think that I don't keep that in mind all the time." She gave him a fake smile and walked off.

"Good," Ginny muttered after they had gotten out of earshot.

"So…Where do you want to go? Unless you want to be under that thing the entire time, we have to keep clear of any students."

"Maybe we should just go to the Three Broomsticks. I'd like a butterbeer. I'll stay under the cloak until I'll figure out what to do."

"Alright," Hermione shrugged; she hoped she wouldn't see Ron or Harry, and then have to explain to them that Ginny was sneaking out. 

They walked in, seeing the place busy with chattering customers around the tables as usual. She went over and ordered two butterbeers, feeling slightly foolish because she looked quite alone. She sat in a corner of the bar and tried not to open her mouth so much when she spoke. When she looked over she gave a slight gasp.

"What?" came the urgent answer from seemingly nowhere.

"Look behind you," Hermione whispered. "Who's Malfoy talking to?"

Although Malfoy was the last person she wanted to see, Ginny turned around and saw him deep in conversation with a cloaked figure. Crabbe and Goyle and the rest of his Slytherin cronies were conspicuously absent.

"I think I'll do a bit spying."

"Ginny, no! You don't know who he's talking to! It might be a Death Eater, or…"

"Or what?"

She gulped. "Or worse."

"Don't be silly. In broad daylight, in The Three Broomsticks?" Then Ginny was silent for a while, and then suddenly Hermione heard her say, "He's with his father!"

"Of all the people to be sitting in front of," Hermione muttered. She mused that perhaps it would have been a good time to speak with his father without looking too suspicious. What could be wrong with a father visiting his son during a Hogsmeade outing? And it was so crowded in there, it would have been hard to be overheard.

"I'm going to see what they're talking about," Ginny said. 

"What if they can see through your cloak?"

"I'll take my chances."

Hermione called out her name a few times without trying to be too loud, but with no answer. Ginny must have left. She turned around, trying not to stare and arouse suspicion.

Ginny crouched near the empty table next to Malfoy and his visitor, held her breath, and listened. Lucius Malfoy was staring at the back of Hermione's bushy head, his lip involuntarily curling as if he had just seen a giant dead insect. 

"Look at that," he said, motioning towards her. Draco turned around and after giving barely a glimpse turned back and shrugged his shoulders.

"So?"

"It's just disgusting how they force purebloods to eat and drink alongside filth like that."

Draco looked bored. "You get used to it. Kind of like a scuff on your shoe you can't get rid of."

Ginny felt her fists involuntarily ball up, gripping the cloak tighter; she fought every nerve not to hex the both of them.

"Well its humiliating how she makes it look like a Mudblood could possibly be more magically talented than you. You're just being lazy."

"Father, I _am_ Head Boy, you know."

"Alongside a Mudblood Head Girl." Lucius paused, then took a swig of his drink. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Soon we won't have to be defiled by their presence any longer. We need just a bit more patience." Draco smirked, unconcerned. 

"I wonder what she was muttering to herself for?" Lucius said, eyeing her warily.

Oddly, instead of sharing the curiosity, Draco immediately changed the subject. "It's done," Draco said, although whether or not he thought it was good or bad, Ginny couldn't tell.

"So she has her powers? Good," answered his father. "I need to know the details."

Draco twisted his face in disgust. "No way. I'm sure you saw what was happening."

"Not after you kicked the mirror," came the nastily amused reply.

"I am not telling you how it happened."

"It matters. Was she in a fit of rage, or horror, or…something else?" his voice deepened at the last remark.

There was a pause followed by a sigh. "I made her angry. Very angry. So angry she tried to kill me."

"Excellent."

"What?"

"Don't you see? If her powers came out in anger, in rage, in a desire to hurt, that would dictate how they'll come out in the future. It's good that she feels hate, betrayal, anger, and a lust to give pain. Then she'll know her powers would be best then—which will aid in our plan. It would be different if they came out in an act of—love—I daresay. I didn't think you would have the presence of mind to do that, but I couldn't tell you what to do. It had to be you who decided. But I'm glad you did."

Draco's face went blank, but Ginny turned around, tears in her eyes. He had done it in the most sinister way, with the most sinister potential results. So is that what he really intended? The last thing he wanted to do was help her. She tried controlling the anger, although it ironically became harder to do after she heard that that was exactly what they had planned—for her to be angry.

                        _______________________________ 


	12. Giving and Burning

**A/N**: Hi!!! Sorry, after updating my old story, my computer stopped working plus a plethora (haha, I love that word, its so funny) of other things which I will not exhaust you with happened. To post as soon as possible, I decided to post answers to ur reviews a bit later on, like in a few days. But a wonderful general thanks to all those who still read my story, THANK YOU. I got so happy, more of u came back than I hoped for, a testimony to how wonderful a group of readers I have.

In this chapter: a few more clues as to what Ron and Harry are doing in Hogsmeade, a confrontation involving a few shocks for Ron. The poem does not have much to do with this chapter, I just put in the last stanzas (which are my fav)  from this sad poem on loss and remembrance cause it went with how I felt after rereading the fifth book (that's all I'll say!!) Oh yeah, Emily Bronte is amazing, I think. She has such beautiful, melodious, yet fairly simple writing.  

                                                Remembrance

                        _…But when the days of golden dreams had perished_

_                        And even Despair was powerless to destroy,_

_                        Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,_

_                        Strengthened and fed without the aid of joy._

_                        Then did I check the  tears of useless passion,_

_                        Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;_

_                        Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten_

_                        Down to that tomb already more than mine!_

_And even yet, I dare not let it languish,_

_Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain;_

_Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,_

_How could I seek the empty world again?_

_                                    Emily Bronte _

Chapter Twelve: Giving and Burning 

            Ron and Harry walked out of the shop, Ron with an extra bounce in his step and swinging a small bag.

            "Harry, I sure owe you for this one, mate."

            "Don't mention it," Harry shrugged it off.

            "No, really. I never the thought he'd give us that deal. The chap seemed a bit…dodgy, actually. I wonder how he got it in the first place? He wouldn't tell us." Ron said.

            "Doesn't matter; as long as we have it now."

            "And we got it at a good price."

            "Where did you learn how to haggle like that, anyway?" Ron smirked.

            "Ah, well, my Uncle Vernon would always haggle any chance he could get. He makes a living out of it, you know, getting good deals on drills and stuff. He wouldn't pay an extra cent even if it'd kill him, unless it would be for dear Duddykins," he said, batting his eyes.

            Ron smiled, but after looking at the bag, he sighed. "So how much do I owe you, Harry?"

            He rolled his eyes. "I told you, Ron. It's alright, really."

            Ron became extremely serious. "No, I mean it. I won't want you to give me any extra favors or anything."

            "But Ron, you know you can't….." he trailed off, afraid to hit a sensitive area.

"I can't what?"

Harry bit his lip. Ron made an exasperated noise. "Dad got me a slight promotion as an assistant where he works for next, because I've been there for all of last summer. I can pay for things myself, you know. I just need a bit of…time."

"Alright, alright. I'll let you pay me back, if it'll make you feel better."

Ron smiled. "It's a good thing Hermione didn't come with us. I wouldn't want her _seeing me buying this." _

            "But knowing her, when she sees it, she'll want us to take it back. I'll bet you anything she'll say it'll be dangerous."

            Ron looked worried. "You think she'll really do that? I was hoping she wouldn't. It would break my heart."

            "Well, let's hope for the best."

            He shook his head. "I just hope this won't cause even more bickering between you two. I wanted you to get along, after all."  
            Ron kept on smiling. "Thanks again, Harry."

                        ________________________________________

            Hermione sat at the bar in the Three Broomsticks, fidgeting and trying not to look back at what might be going on in the table behind her, where the two people she thought detested her the most were sitting. She nervously sipping her butterbeer trying to look out for Ron and Harry as well. She knew they usually came here during their Hogsmeade trips, and their lack of presence confirmed that they were up to something unusual at least. 

            As if she weren't nervous enough, she saw Lavender and Parvati wave to her right before they came and sat right next to her. She groaned internally.

            "Hi, Hermione!" said Lavender cheerfully.

            "We were wondering where you were, you weren't with us in the line this morning," said Lavender.

            "Where's Ron and Harry? How come you're not with them?"

            "Oh, I had a bit of studying to do. I just arrived, actually. Haven't found Ron or Harry," she said, shifting her eyes.

            "Oh really," said Parvati with a suspicious air. "You're not fighting with them, are you?"

            "Fighting? Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. She didn't mean to, but the last thing she wanted to do at the moment was to talk to them. She was getting more and more worried about Ginny.

            "Alright, whatever you say," Parvati shrugged. They looked a bit disappointed. Hermione could tell they were expecting a bit of juicy gossip about her and Ron.

            Apparently she was right. "So how are things with you and Ron, anyway?" Lavender asked keenly.

            "Yeah. It's your first Hogsmeade visit since you two are dating, and you're not even  together. You _are dating, aren't you?" Parvati asked with a dark eyebrow raised._

            "Er, yes, I suppose," she squirmed.

            "I mean, it doesn't say much about him. I mean, I'd want my boyfriend to take me out somewhere romantic in Hogsmeade. Somewhere like Mrs. Puddifoot's, or something," Lavender said a bit dreamily.

            "Yeah. Remember in fourth year, when I went to the Yule Ball with him? He wouldn't even dance with me," Parvati said. 

            Hermione was getting more and more irritated. After hearing the awful story from Harry about what happened with him and Cho at Mrs. Puddifoot's, she was quite frankly glad Ron had never taken her there.

            "Excuse me, but I think Ron is one of the nicest guys I know. He may be bit insensitive at times, but all guys are like that sometimes. In fact, he's not with me right now because he's probably off getting a surprise for me, like he said," she replied huffily.

            "Alright, sorry. Didn't mean to offend you or anything," Parvati said defensively.

            "She may be right, Parvati. In fact, if I remember correctly, Ron never danced with you at the Ball because he was too busy staring at Hermione," Lavender said bitingly.

            "Oh shut up," Parvati snapped. Hermione grinned.

            "Yeah," Lavender said, taking a sip from her butterbeer, " he's been fancying you for ages. It was so obvious. How serious are you two, anyway?" she asked again.

            "Um, well, that's a bit personal, Lavender," she gulped. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

            "Oh nothing. It's just that I just saw him coming out of  Harry Spinestone's store, carrying a small bag," Lavender said, sounding like one of those ladies at a salon gossiping with her hair in curlers.

            Parvati gasped. "No!"

            "Huh? What's that place?" Hermione said.

            Parvati looked scandalized. "It's only one of the most famous wizarding antique jewelry  shops in England."

            Lavender looked excited, "Yeah, the stuff they carry, it's usually very beautiful and rare and collectible…"

            "And expensive. My uncle Milty bought a ring for my aunt Marge from there. But after his business went bankrupt, he sold it and lived off the money for a few years."

            Hermione was hearing all this but not believing what she was hearing.

            "Jewelry?" she sputtered. "Are you sure they don't sell anything else?"

            "Hermione," Lavender said in a high voice. "Do you know what their specialty is?"

            "What's that?"

            The two of them were thoroughly enjoying all this. For once Hermione didn't know something they did. Lavender answered in a dramatic, low voice. "Engagement rings."

            Hermione dropped her goblet of butterbeer, its dregs spilling onto the table. Madame Rosmerta eyed her angrily. Hermione found it extremely hard to breathe, and Ginny had slipped out of her mind completely.

            "Oh, Hermione, I had no idea," Parvati said. I thought you guys only just started going out.

            "Are…are you _sure _you saw Ron coming out of there, having…having bought something?" she asked desperately.

            "Positive," said Lavender.

            She shook her head disbelievingly. "It can't be. I mean, Ron could never afford…"

            "I saw him with Harry. Maybe he helped him out with the money."

            She slumped her shoulders and stared straight ahead blankly.

            "Oh dear, she doesn't look too happy," Parvati said. "Are you going to turn him down?"

            Hermione put her elbows on the table and put her hands over her eyes. " There has to be some other explanation. I never would have thought…I mean, Ron? _Now?" she was muttering to herself._

            "Well, whatever you do, you'd better keep the ring," Parvati winked.

            "No way! That would be completely tasteless."

            Hermione drowned out their bickering. She was having horrible visions of her living in a cramped house, looking quite similar to Mrs.Weasley, a chasing a few toddlers with another baby already in her arms, and Ron coming home from the office, tired, overworked and underpaid, his hairline receding like his father's…She cringed at the thought. I'm being silly, she thought, getting mad at herself. Ron would never settle down this early, and neither would I. There has to be something else going on, she rationalized. And she calmed down a bit, although now she was expecting the "surprise" with a feeling of dread.

            "Listen, guys. I really, really doubt it would be an…an….engagement ring," she laughed nervously as she said the last two words.

            "Hmm, maybe he's just buying you a present so you'll shag him," Parvati said.

            Lavender hit her on the shoulder. "You're so bad, really. Not every boy thinks like those boys you always fall for."

            But Parvati was glancing yearningly at the table in back of them, biting her lip. "Well, I know at least one boy who thinks like that," she said indicating Draco in back of them.

            "He's with his father. Urgh, he's so ugly. He must have gotten his looks from his mother," Lavender said.

Hermione was immediately jolted again with her worries about Ginny.

            "You mean…the…the slimy git has been sitting in back of us the whole time?" Hermione said, trying to act surprised.

            "Slimy git? He's only the hottest guy in our entire school," Parvati said dreamily.

            "Yeah, Hermione. Hating him is like, so last year," Lavender said.

            "Oh really. Well I doubt hating us Mudbloods will ever go out of style for him," she said angrily.

            "Oh, sorry," Lavender apologized.

            "Oh, never mind," Parvati said, keeping her eyes glued to the blond at the table. "Did you hear that they're asking him to do ads in the new Aberzombie and Witch catalog?" 

            "Do you know what that means?" Lavender gasped. "Aren't most of the guys naked in that catalog?"

"Yes!" Parvati squealed, and the two of them went into a fit of giggles. Hermione thought she was going to be sick. She wished they wouldn't be so loud and blatantly obvious, but she supposed that, in front of Malfoy, that was probably their purpose, anyway. 

"Now I remember why I like spending time with Ron and Harry. I think I'll go, before you guys make me throw up," she said as she got up. The entire time she was thinking of a polite way to leave, but she figured this way would work just as well.

Lavender and Parvati looked hurt. "Well, so much for having us as bridesmaids for her wedding," they giggled as Hermione shook her head and left as quickly as possible before they drove her mad. She sat at another isolated corner, one where she could look at the Malfoys without being obvious. But when she sat down, she saw that the two of them were already walking out the door.

"I thought you'd never get rid of those two," a voice made her jump; she was glad she didn't have any more butterbeer to spill.

"Oh, Ginny, you're alright," she said as she exhaled, relieved. "Did you hear what they were saying about Ron? And about Malfoy? Honestly."

She was expecting some sort of reply, but she got none. "Ginny? What were they talking about? Ginny?"

Even though she said nothing, Ginny's silence even felt angry somehow.

"Ginny, if they said anything about me, it's alright, really. I don't mind it, and that means neither should you."

"I know," came the hoarse reply.

"Well? Did they say anything else?"

It took a while for her to answer. "No. Not anything important."

Hermione blinked. It was so much harder trying to have a conversation with someone when they were invisible. "Then what would Malfoy meet his son here for? What was so urgent that he just couldn't tell him in a letter or anything?"

"I don't know," Ginny answered quietly. She didn't want to tell Hermione what she had just heard. In fact, she didn't want to tell anybody. They were already worried about her enough. She didn't want Ron to think his sister was destined for evil. 'You're not his sister,' a nasty voice in her head reminded her. 

"Ginny, is there anything you need to tell me? I can still tell you're upset over something. What did they say?"

Ginny gave an audible sigh. "I think I owe you an apology."

"Another one?"

"You tried warning me about Malfoy, and I wouldn't listen. I just exploded on you. You were just trying to protect me, and you were quite right about him."

"I was?"

"Yeah. He never had my best interests at heart. I heard him telling his father. He was just going along because I'm Slytherin's daughter. Something for him to brag about."

Ginny expected her not to be so perplexed. But after a moment where she had a curious look on her face, she shook it off, as if awakening herself from a reverie of deep thought. "Oh Ginny…" she said. "I'm sorry. But I'm not surprised."

"I shouldn't have been, either," Ginny said.  "Listen, let's get out of here. I'm sicking of hanging under this thing."

They both heartily agreed and walked out. Ginny took off her cloak.

"What were Lavender and Parvati saying? I wasn't listening to them."

The truth was, that Ginny had headed straight for the bathroom, to wash her face and calm herself down—and also to wash off the tears before they fell. She had come out, to see Hermione sitting at a different end of the bar. She saw that Hermione had gone red.

"Oh nothing, just some rubbish about them seeing Ron at some jewelry store. It sells engagement rings apparently and they immediately assumed the worst," she said, as if dismissing it.

Ginny considered what she said. "Well, I know Ron well enough to say he won't have the guts to buy you a ring anytime soon. But that still doesn't mean he got you something nice. He's really, really serious about you, Herm."

"Why is everybody assuming its something for me? Maybe he's getting you a present to make you feel better about all that's happening."

Ginny looked at her doubtfully. "Yeah, you tell yourself that."

Hermione shrugged and looked down, and suddenly she bumped into Ginny, who had stopped walking.

"What's the matter?"

"Look!"

Hermione squinted her eyes and her heart sank immediately when she saw Ron and Harry standing in front of Malfoy. Ginny quickly pulled the cloak over her head. Hermione thought she had never seen Ron so red before. Now that he had grown, he looked quite alarming when she saw how furious he was. Harry was standing next to him, not holding him back this time, but looking like he was ready to strike.

"What were you saying, Malfoy?" Ron asked dangerously.

"You heard what I said, Weasley. Oh wait, you probably can't afford a hearing aid."

"You were asking someone about my sister," Ron breathed.

"So what if I was? Is that a crime?"

"What do you want with her?"

"What business is it of yours?" he asked calmly.

"She's my sister; anything she does is my business—especially if it involves a creep like you."

Draco smiled that amused smile that always irritated Ron, because he always had that look on his face whenever he was about to say something bad to him. "Your memory's failing you Weasley. She's not your sister—she never was."

"You shut your face!" Harry cried. They hadn't told anybody about what they had learned about Ginny: the last thing they wanted was more annoying gossip.

"What's the matter, Potter? Are you sad that now that she's a Slytherin, she's chasing somebody besides you?"

"She's been interested in a lot of other guys. But you haven't been interested in her before this. Why are you so keen on talking with her all of a sudden?"

"Yeah, how do you think you know her?"

Draco's grin grew wider. He looked like he would relish the effect of what he would say next.  "Believe me, Weasley. I know her a lot better than you think. I "know" her a lot more than you ever will."

Ron was so angry Harry could feel the heat radiating from him. Even his hair seemed to be even more red than usual. He reminded Harry of a fiery volcano. Ron whipped out his wand and could barely speak through his rage.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

The more enraged Ron became, the calmer Draco became. "Nothing. It's just that I know her a lot better now." His pale eyes twinkled. "Especially after last night in my room."

Ron froze in horror as he remembered spying on Malfoy with Hermione's glass, agonized over what it all might mean. But he struck his wand out more straight and shouted a spell.

But Draco was too quick for him—that frozen moment of realization had cost Ron. He shouted, "_Expelliarmus!" Ron's wand flew out of his hand, but he didn't care. He lunged for Draco and pushed him onto his back, savagely punching him wherever he could._

"You're a bloody liar!" he was screaming. "I'll rip that pretty face of yours apart!" 

Harry threw himself on the two of them but a fierce blow to his head knocked him out. Crabbe and Goyle had appeared out of nowhere. Only being able to open one eye, Harry stuck out his wand and yelled, "Stupefy!" The flash of light hit Crabbe, who fell to the floor, but Goyle struck Harry again, harder this time, knocking him unconscious. 

Hermione and Ginny ran to them. Draco and Ron were wrestling on the floor, bloody and dirty, Draco yelling out curses and Ron trying to dodge flashes of light until he finally managed to snap his wand in half. Draco continued to pummel him with his fists until Hermione tore Ron away from him.

Heavily breathing, he rounded on her. "Harry, let me—Hermione! What are you doing here?" His rage transformed into surprise so immediately it was almost comical. "Did you leave Ginny alone?"

"No, she did not." Ginny, who had stunned Goyle as well and was tending to Harry, threw off her cloak. Ron gasped and immediately, Draco got up, a brilliant bruise on his eye and his lip swollen to twice its size.

"Ginny! I need to talk to you!"

"No you don't!" Ron said, but Hermione threw herself in front of him. Ron's nose was bleeding and he was wincing from a kick in the stomach Draco had given him. 

"Ron, its alright. Calm down," she said, stroking his shoulders.

"No, its not! He's telling disgusting lies about my sister!"

"Ron," Ginny said, as everybody turned to her and went silent, "it's true." She closed her eyes--she couldn't look at him.

Ron looked like he had been slapped by Hagrid's giant  half-brother. "_What??"_

Hermione looked at her shoes guiltily, and Draco was warily silent. Ginny had suddenly become quite interested in reviving Harry. He muttered to himself as he blinked his eyes and slowly got up. Both his eyes were heavily bruised, and he had a few cuts where his broken glasses had struck his face.

"Wha…what happened?" he said thickly.

"What happened? My _sister has been snogging the one person I despise most in the entire world!"_

"Snape?" he blundered. He still hadn't regained full consciousness—Goyle had apparently been even stronger than he looked. 

"Musn't have done that properly, Ginny said sheepishly as she moved her wand around him a bit, fully awakening him, although he still had to squint painfully through his bruised eyes. But he caught on quickly what was going on when he realized what Ron just said.

"Ron, listen mate, he's not lying. I heard 'em yesterday, I just didn't have the heart to tell you."

"You _knew?"_

Draco, who had been spending the time healing the bruises on his face, finally gave a frustrated growl as he got up, brushed off his pants (which had been perfectly pressed a few minutes ago) and breezed past Ron, who stared at him like as if he were a deadly disease.

"Ginny, I need to talk to you."

She stood up and looked into his eyes with a cold fury. "How dare you even have the nerve to speak to me, you evil son of a bitch." All the anger that had been welling up inside her burst and she slapped him quite hard on the face. Ron gave a triumphant laugh and Hermione smiled, slightly getting up from healing Harry's bruises. 

Draco yowled and grabbed his cheek; Ginny was slightly taken aback—she didn't expect it to hurt that much. She saw him moving his wand at his face, and when he finally took his hand off, there was not much left besides a pink tinge. "What was that for?"

"I was listening to everything you said to your father."

"Oh," he said, rubbing his bruise which had started throbbing with fresh pain, "then I deserved that, I guess. I was afraid you heard it. "

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, what with Granger muttering your name to herself in the Three Broomsticks. And I know Potter has an Invisibility cloak." He shot a look at Hermione, but then when he looked at Ginny he had an expression Hermione had not been used to seeing on him—it wasn't a sneer or a mock smile or a look of loathing: he actually looked sincere. "Listen, Gin, I need to talk to you about what I said. I had to say something to my father."

"He's a bloody liar, Gin. Don't listen to a damn thing he says," Ron said, crossing his arms. But Hermione had a strange look on her face—she remembered the Veritaserum.

"I think we should hear what he has to say," she said, examining him.

Ron looked like she had just suggested that they all drop out of Hogwarts.

"For once the Mudblood is talking sense," he said disdainfully.

Slap again, but she was not as angry as before. Harry and Ron cheered.

"Hey!"

"You are such a bastard, you know that?" Ginny glared.

He looked mildly irritated. "Actually I have the best breeding in all of wizarding kind."

"Don't make me slap you again. Or I could do a lot worse than that," she leaned in closer to him and said threateningly, "you know firsthand."

He pulled away and cleared his throat. " I wanted to talk to you about that. About making you angry. You know I didn't mean any of it; and as for everything my father said, I had no idea."

She crossed her arms. "I don't believe you." Actually, that was only half true. She wanted to believe everything he had said. She wanted to believe it desperately. But the other half of her remembered how he had acted in front of his father—how he was afraid to do otherwise. Then the other half was reminded of last night, partly glad that he had healed his face, thinking hat someone that good-looking shouldn't stay disfigured for a long time.

"Granger!" he called Hermione, "why don't you tell her to believe me? Tell her what I told you last night after drinking your Truth Potion."

"What?" Ron was going through one astonishment after another about the two girls he cared about most in his life. "You _talked_ to this git _last night?"_

"Gets around, that one does," Harry said nastily.

Draco glared at him. "You have no idea, Potter."

"Shut up, Malfoy or I'll tell them the _other thing_ you told me last night while under that potion." He clamped his mouth shut.

"What did he tell you?"

"You breathe one word and I'll tell him what you told _me_," Draco said quietly.

Hermione gave him a thoughtful glance and said, " I gave him Veritaserum, and he told me that he had Ginny's best interests at heart. That he wants to save her from Voldemort."

Ron's mouth flew open yet again.

"Bullshit," said Harry.

"No, he drank the potion."

"I don't know about this," Harry said.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Ron said, waving his arms. "What was _he_ doing talking to _you_ in the first place? And why would he agree to drink a truth potion?"

Hermione squirmed. " I caught him and Ginny last night. He came to my room and told me to mind my own business, that he didn't want to hurt Ginny." She looked up at them. "So I asked him to prove it."

"You mean you knew about this too?" Ron said, "Why does everybody  know everything vitally important to my life except me??"

"Welcome to my world," said Ginny.

"And mine," muttered Harry.

"I'm leaving. You guys have enough proof that I'm not lying about this. If you still don't believe me, fine. It's not like I cared whether or not you liked me before." He started to leave.

" But you care about Ginny," Hermione said briskly.

He turned around. Ginny had a curious look on her face. Draco looked at her. "Whatever she thinks of me, it's her decision. But she knows I could have been a lot worse to her."

"Yeah right. I bet you told the entire school you slept with her or something," Ron growled.

"For your information, Weasley, I didn't do anything with her, and I didn't tell anyone else that I did. But I see now that doing anything nice for Gryffindors only results in me getting slapped and punched by them. Guess you proved my father right." He turned around and began to walk off.

Ginny silently stared at him, and Hermione looked as if she were fighting an inner urge to run after him. Harry looked at him curiously, with still a hint of suspicion. Ron was looking at him in a loathing manner reminiscent of Snape glowering at Harry.

 Hermione's eye caught a small paper bag left on the floor. Her heart jumped and for an odd reason she didn't want to see what was in that bag and desperately wanted to peek at it at the same time.

"Is…is this yours?" she asked Ron and Harry hoarsely. Ron grabbed the bag defensively.

"Yeah, its mine," said Harry, shifting his eyes. 

"Who are you buying jewelry for, Harry?" Ginny asked sweetly.

"Erm…thought I'd buy Lupin a watch for Christmas."

"It's not silver, is it?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not," said Ron. "But we can't show you. It's already wrapped, you see."

"How convenient," said Ginny rolling her eyes.

"I need to have a very, very, long talk with you," Ron said, pointing his finger at her. "What's all this, stealing Harry's cloak, sneaking off into Hogsmeade….and _Malfoy??? Why don't you just go on and stab me in the heart with a knife? It'll be easier."_

"Listen, Ron, it's not what you think-"

"What in the devil possessed you? _Malfoy??"_

"Well it doesn't matter. Whatever happened, its over now, and it doesn't look like anybody knew," Hermione said calmly. Ron rounded on her.

"And what's your story? Talking to a git like that? Next thing I know, you'll end up snogging him in the Astrononmy Tower!"

"I would never do that. What kind of person do you think I am?" she said hurt voice, "I thought you'd at least expect me to be a bit more original than the Astronomy Tower."

Before he heard her, Ron was about to open his mouth to give an angry reply, but laughed instead. 

"I think we should go back to the castle. Ginny can wear my cloak until then," Harry said cheerfully. 

Meanwhile, Draco entered the castle, still a bit unnerved that, although he didn't show it, when Ginny slapped him for the first time, she had burned the imprint of her hand onto his face. He wondered whether or not he would have to get used to things being burned into him.

                        ___________________________________


	13. The Threat and the Gift

**A/N:** When I finally manage to finish a chapter on time, the damn site won't work!!!! So blame it on ff.net this time. Grrr, I wonder who's always conspiring against me when I try to update (shifts eyes in a suspicious, furtive glance). Oh well, at least I am blessed with wonderful, brilliant readers:

**The Elfin Child**: I really try to put Harry in this fic as well, cause D/H fics sometimes completely ignore all the other characters—I like to take advantage of them and their wonderful personalities. I also try to not to keep Ginny _too out of character right now, but in the fifth book she's actually a bit more like the Ginny I've written in this fic—rebellious, brave, more like her brothers._

**D/H fanatic**: You'll find out what Ron bought in this chapter (yay!! I finally give an answer to something!!) Yeah, I expected Ron and Harry not to exactly enjoy all the stuff they learned last chappie, but Ron won't do anything rash ( I think beating the pulp out of Dr is rash enough), instead he's gonna do something very sweet—to someone else. Thank you for ur fanfiction blessing and I hope u (and ur basilisk) will enjoy the next chappie. Happy reading!

**Trillium**: I was thinking the exact same thing!! You never see one on one action with Harry and Draco in the real books lately—which leaves us readers wanting and us fanfic writers writing to fill the demand! Hehe. I guess the name calling and confrontations have gotten a bit repetitive, but Draco was almost completely absent in this book, except when he was leading some, er, singing for a couple of times after which I thought  "ok, can't he think of anything else now? He already said that!"

Thanks for appreciating the humor and the fact that I try to give info w/o giving _away_ anything else.

**Lil-Judie**: Thank you!!! I will keep it up!

**Ashes:** Thanks! Some people like the D/H/G triangle, and others want some more D/H!! I'll try to keep everyone happy.

**Stomp-Me**: Thank you so much! I'm trying to continue as fast as possible

**Cassandra:** You have no idea how much it means to me whenever someone says I'm original, its something quite impossible to do with 80 thousand other fics out there. Thank you!

**Amy**: future chappies will only get better and better-lol, I'm thinking of new broomstick jokes to put in….

**Harmonic-Sakke**: Thank you!! You enjoyed all the parts of the story that I enjoyed as well!! Thank you for reading and I'm glad u like the story.

**Iarejedi**: Yeah, I was pretty rough on Draco. sigh. But I only torture him further all throughout this fic (I tend to do that to all my fav characters)

**Very Interested Reader**: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

If I forgot anyone please tell me!!!

In this chappie: We find out what Ron and Harry bought, some funny encounters with Draco and a fellow Slytherin, and he still gets punished (poor thing). Also, a bit of Herm/R fluff for all those romantics out there.

The poem, one of the most famous sonnets by the most famous writer, has the same romantic tone as a scene in this chappie and has a bit to do with what Ron bought, and it has a few clues as to what it is. Something that can endure throughout all time—can you guys guess what it is?

                                                            _Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_

_                                                            Thou art more lovely and more temperate:_

_                                                            Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_

_                                                            And summer's lease hath all too short a date;_

_                                                            Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_

_                                                            And often is his gold complexion dimmed; _

_                                                            And every fair from fair sometimes declines,_

_                                                            By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed._

_                                                            But thy eternal summer shall not fade,_

_                                                            Nor lose possession of that fair thou own'st_

_                                                            Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,_

_                                                            When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:_

_                                                            So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,_

_                                                            So long lives this, and this gives life to thee._

_                                                                                                William Shakespeare_

Chapter Thirteen: The Threat and the Gift 

Draco grumbled to himself as he walked back to his room, his hands stuffed angrily into his pockets. He had been delayed  because of an accidental run-in with Pansy—she had been trying incessantly to get his good affections, despite his constant efforts to avoid her. Even though he had broken things off with her since last year, she still harbored the delusion that he was crazy about her. The truth was he didn't even like her—she irritated him as much as Potter did. But since she didn't have a teaspoon full of brains he wasn't surprised that she hadn't caught on yet.

"Draco!" she called out his name in her signature squeaky, high pitched voice.

"What is it, Pansy?" he had said dully.

"I heard Parvati and Lavender gossiping, you know how those Gryffindors are--"

"Yes, and because it's also something you never stop doing," he muttered.

"Oh Drac-ey, you're so funny," she smiled. "Anyway, I heard them saying something about you being in the new Aberzombie and Witch catalog! Is it true?" she asked breathlessly.

"They asked me about it, yeah," he said, wishing she would go away.

"Well?" she said, her eyes wide, "Are you gonna do it?"

"Well, I can see why you're asking. I suppose that'll be the only opportunity you'll ever get to see me with my shirt off," he said nastily.

"Stop teasing, you," she said, pouting. She ran in front of him—he had been walking quickly ahead of her the whole time, causing her to scurry ahead while she was talking. She stood right in front of him, forcing him to halt. Her eyes were crawling all over him and he could tell she was undressing him in her mind. "It was never that hard to get your shirt off before," she said, tracing a finger across his chest.

"You're right—it was only hard for me to do that for _you_," he said scathingly. "I had to fight my upchuck reflex every time you'd make me kiss you."

Her saccharine gaze suddenly turned icy. "I don't know why you're being so difficult. My family can trace our generations almost as back as yours."

"Too bad your fortune doesn't seem to be lasting as well. Didn't your father go bankrupt this year? People won't buy anything from his business because he used to serve You-Know-Who. Are you trying to get some money buy getting with someone rich?" 

She covered up her momentary look of shock. "Don't be stupid. I've always helped you in everything you've done."

"Well now you can help me by leaving me alone," he said as he began to walk off again.

She walked in front of him. "I know you don't mean that. There's something wrong with you. I can make you feel a lot better," her fingers moved again, this time to his collar. Then she gasped. "What's that?"

             "It's called a neck. But I'm sure you're quite familiar with _other _body parts," he sneered.

            "Don't be cheeky with me. Why do you have a hickey on your neck?"

            "It's not a hickey."  
            "I know one when I see one." 

            "Have a lot of experience with 'em, don't you?"

            "Stop changing the subject back to me. How _dare _you snog another girl. Who is she? I'll kill the bitch."

"You're always in line with the school gossip, why don't you find out?" he said, glaring and walked off.

"Fine, I'll just go make up some of my own. I'll just say you're sneaking off with…Hermione Granger, how's that?"

"Like anybody would believe _that."_

"Your rooms are right by each other. And it would be a lovely reason why you had a fight with Weasely and Potter right now."

He stopped again. "How do you know that?"

"Crabbe and Goyle told me. They were lying on the floor in Hogsmeade and I revived them. They told me you had a fight. What was all that about?"

"I'm not telling you. And I know you can't blackmail me. You would never say I'm with Hermione. It would be bad for you as well as the rest of the Slytherin House."

She bit her lip. "What's going on, Draco? Why are you keeping secrets from us? That doesn't go well with us. Trust me, you won't want to get on our bad side."

"Oooh, I'm simply terrified."

"You're going to need our help. Soon." Her eyes narrowed.

"What does that mean?"

"I won't tell if you won't. So, who gave you that love bite?"

He had finally reached his room, took his hands out of his pockets and opened the door roughly without looking into it. He turned to Pansy and opened his mouth when another voice made them both whip back their heads.

"Draco, we need to talk about last night." It was Ginny, sitting on his bed with her legs crossed.

Pansy looked like she had just seen Snape wearing nothing but boxer shorts with pink hearts on them. 

"Ginny Weasley?? Ginny _Weasley?"_

                        ______________________________________________________

Ginny stood up and eyed Pansy warily. "Sorry, Draco, I didn't know you were taking your dog out for a walk."

But Pansy was glaring at Draco. "I _don't believe you. Going with a blood traitor! Wait until I tell your father."_

Draco had been looking at Ginny perplexed, but then, he turned his head casually toward Pansy and said, "It's amazing how you always shoot your mouth off at things even though you don't have a bloody _clue_ about what's going on. Go ahead, I'd love for you to tell my father. He'd be quite pleased, I think. It was _his_ idea."

"His idea? What is this rubbish? You're not telling me something!" Her face was very red.

Draco examined his fingernails. "Yes, well, I expected you'd have gotten used to that feeling by now."

Ginny had her arms crossed. "So everything about last night was your father's idea, and all you're going to do is follow his orders. Alright, that's all I wanted to know. Excuse me, I'm leaving," Ginny said angrily as she made her way to the door.

Draco blocked her with his arm. "No, you're not going anywhere." He motioned to Pansy. "_She is."_

Pansy looked like she was trying her utmost to keep from trembling with rage. Her long purple earrings were shaking slightly. "The entire school will know that you're dating Ginny Weasley in about an hour. "

"Tell someone who gives a shit," Draco murmered.

"We're not dating. It was just a one-time..thing." Ginny said.

Pansy gasped. "You had a one night stand?"

Draco looked at her, loathing hardening all the sharp lines of his face. "No Pansy, that's just what you should call all _your_ relationships."

She was breathing very heavily, moving her fake eyelashes up and down. But she paused and managed to say in a dangerously calm voice, "You're insulting me now, but believe me, you will pay very dearly for this, Draco. Mark my words. You will be very, very sorry."

Draco ignored her. "I'll start shaking when I remember to be scared." She gave a big humph and stormed out through the hallway.

                                    _________________________________________

"Ron, um, you haven't let me heal your bruises yet," Hermione muttered as she walked up the stairs with him to the hallway to her room.

"You know you don't always have to take care of me like that, 'Mione," he smiled, embarrassed, "But since I'm in a lot of pain at the moment I'd like you to. But let's get to your room first."

She felt the nervousness clench her stomach. "Uh, where did Harry say he had to go? He just…disappeared."

"He had some Transfiguration homework to finish," he said quickly.

"I thought he mentioned something about Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Er, yeah, that too."

Hermione halted right in front of him and stood there, her hands on her hips. "What's all this about Ron?"

He bit his lip. "Listen, I'll tell you in your room, okay?"

She let her shoulders fall and walked with him reluctantly. Suddenly she felt a hard bump and heavily perfumed curls brush against her face. "Wha--? Pansy?"

She brushed her hair out of her face. "Urgh. Granger, why don't you watch where I'm going?" she asked huffily. Ron smirked at her. She surveyed his bruised face and her eyes narrowed.

"Fighting, are we? Well that slut you call your sister isn't worth fighting for."

"What did you say?" His fingers balled into fists and Hermione wondered whether he'd make an exception and punch a girl.

Pansy did not answer him. He was just staring at the two of them. "And what are you doing going to her room all alone in the evening, anyway? No wonder you Weasleys always have so many kids. Your entire lot's so randy, aren't you?" she said scathingly.

"You wanna know what _your lot of Slytherins are like??" Ron yelled. _

Hermione put her hand against his chest. "It's alright, Ron. The poor dear is not over the fact that her old boyfriend dumped her a  year ago," she said in a mockingly pitying voice.

"Careful, Granger. I'm watching you very closely, and I know _staying_ Head Girl is very important  to you," and she walked off, her nose held high in the air.

"Don't mind her," both Ron and Hermione said to each other at the same time, and giggled.

"Honestly, who does that cow think she is?" Hermione said, a bit agitated as she reached her door. Ron walked in after her.

"I _hate Slytherins," he said savagely, ripping off his muddy cloak. "Everything awful that's happening is because of those goddamn Slytherins."_

"And Ginny is related to their namesake. I still have to get used to that," Hermione said. She sighed.  "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Malfoy," Ron said. Hermione felt a strange feeling of relief yet disappointment. 

"What exactly happened last night. He said he talked to you. What else did he tell you?"

"Ron, I already _told you. He gave Ginny her powers, and I threatened to tell Dumbledore. He agreed to take the Truth Potion so I would believe that he didn't want to hurt her."_

Ron's eyes had widened. "He _gave Ginny powers?? You never told me that."_

"Oh," she replied lamely.

"How did he do that?"

"Well, I guess we heard it last night." Ron whistled and collapsed onto her bed, putting his fingers over his eyes.   
            "But I don't get it. How could helping Ginny get Dark Powers coincide with not wanting to hurt her?"

Ron suddenly had a horrified look on his face. "You said she got _Dark _Powers?"

"I'm positive. You should have heard the explosion last night. It….It didn't feel right," her voice became quiet. Ron groaned, then said, "What did he tell you exactly, in the exact words he used?"

Hermione thought. "He said he wanted to save Ginny from Voldemort."

"Have you even considered the fact that he might have been lying?"

"Under Veritaserum?"  
            "Maybe it wasn't working right."

"It was working fine."

"How do you know?"

"I took it myself," she said firmly.

"What??"  
            "It was the only way he'd agree to take the potion!" she said, exasperated.

"Hermione, are you mad? What did you tell him?"

"Nothing….serious."

He stared into her eyes. "Yeah, right. He said if you tell us something then he'd say what you told him."

She smiled. "It's nothing, really."

"Well what did he tell you besides what he said about Ginny?"

She bit her lip. "It's so stupid it's not worth talking about."

He looked at her curiously. "Are you _protecting_ him?"

"No!"

"Then? Is he a Death-Eater yet or what?"

"I didn't ask."

"You didn't ask? You had Malfoy under a truth potion and you _didn't ask_?"

"He changed the subject. Clever of him, really."

"He changed it to what? What did he tell you?"

She gritted her teeth and then told him. Ron started laughing. "Wait until Harry hears this…."

"Ron, no! I don't think I should've told anybody that."  
            "So?" he asked incredulously.

"If you tell everybody then he'll…."

"He'll what?" His smile slipped from his face. "What did you tell _him_?"

"He asked if…if I found him attractive. Just physically, I mean."

"And what did you say?" Ron looked as if he was dreading the answer.

She scrunched up her face as if she were expecting a blow.

"Do you mean…" He was finding it hard to breathe.

"It's his hair, I've always liked blonds. And the other day, Ginny and I went to talk to him, we thought he knew about everything that was going on, and he had just gotten out of the shower and…."

Ron was sputtering incoherently—he looked quite funny, actually. "Do you realize….he now thinks that….as if he didn't already feel so arrogant towards me…" He finally stopped trying and slumped on the bed, feeling utterly defeated. The day seemed to be getting worse and worse.

"Oh, Ron. Don' t take it that way. It was just something stupid—hormones, that's what it was. It surprised _me, really." He was silent. "Ron," she pleaded. " Remember when you liked that Fluer girl, you know, the one who dated your brother? You just thought she was pretty." She paused. "You know what? I wouldn't be surprised if he had veela blood, his last name has French roots. He probably has that awful charm they all have." Ron still didn't answer. He was looking at his hands. Hermione sat next to him and said, with a tone of guilt, "C'mon, don't tell me you never thought any other girl looked attractive."_

He replied in a quiet, raspy voice, " I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen."

She blushed. " You mean…_me, with my bushy hair and my big teeth…?"_

"You made your teeth smaller, but that didn't matter to me much. And I like your hair—it doesn't look artificially perfect like on all the other girls."

She felt her throat constricting, welling up, and a prickly sensation coming over the corners of her eyes. Only one thought repeated itself over and over again in her head, '_He thinks I'm beautiful.' She leaned over to him. "I wouldn't have you look any other way besides how you look now. No other person could make my heart light up whenever I see you. What I feel for you…I could never feel for any other person in the world," she whispered. She kissed him near the temple. _

 "Ow," he smiled and winced at the same time. "I'm still bruised, here."

She started. "Oh! I'll get straight on it." She hopped off the bed and rummaged through her trunk. She brought out a towel and a bottle full of blue liquid. She dabbed some of it on the towel and rubbed it on his face—he could almost feel the bruises going down. She gave him a cup full of some steaming liquid. "Drink this, it'll take care of the pain." He sipped.

"Tastes like tea."

She smiled. "It is, but not quite. Ginny's mother came up with it, actually." She continued gently rubbing his face and he looked up at hers, feeling a lot better.

"It's so great that you and her took some MediWizard training during the summer."  
            "Are you kidding? With you two dunderheads getting us all into trouble so much…"

"So…do you know how to get rid of my 'spattergroit'? You know, so my face won't be so 'horribly disfigured'?" He grinned.

She laughed. "I can't believe you remember that." She smiled tenderly at him. "I told you, I wouldn't have you any other way—not one freckle different."

"I _hate my freckles."_

"I think they're adorable." She said, touching his nose with her finger. His face was already back to normal.

"Uh, there's one more thing you could take care of," he said, going slightly pink. "The git kicked me in the stomach."

"Oh," she said a bit awkwardly.

"Er, should I…should I take off my shirt?" he was getting red around the ears again.

"Ok," she said, her mouth clamping shut. He hesitantly pulled off his vest, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Hermione didn't know whether to stare at his arms or not, which were just as nice as Draco's. He was still lanky, but he had finally grown into himself and he looked more sculpted overall. Hermione suddenly felt quite silly. He pulled up his sleeveless undershirt and revealed a purplish blue bruise that had spread almost to half the left side of his torso. Hermione gasped slightly but went to work without saying anything. She knew he was in pain despite his efforts to mask it.. Finally, after she finished, he murmured an awkward thank-you. She asked, "Er..is that all?"

He looked at her, then smiled. "No." He got up and looked into his robes. Her heart thumped with anticipation. Ron turned back to her, this time with a beautifully wrapped, small package in his hand. "Harry never bought a watch for Lupin this afternoon. But I sensed that you already realized that." He closed his eyes. "I was planning on giving you this  later, but I don't think I can wait any longer; not when you mean so much to me right now."

                                    ______________________________________

"I'm still waiting for a reason as to why you're keeping me here," Ginny said.

"No reason. In fact, if you want to leave, that's perfectly fine. I'll just come with you." He led her out and closed the door. " Everyone will know about…last night anyway."

"You know, you could have told her who I really am…saved your reputation," she said, lowering her eyes.

"I could have," he grinned.

She turned to him. "Well you don't have to be so smug about it."

"Sorry. You were the one that just slapped me and burned my face. So excuse me if I'm not completely sunshine and daisies to you right now."

"Oh, and _you were only the one who just beat up my brother, insulted my friend, and ensured that I have dark powers to serve your father's master."_

"I told you I had no idea about all that, and your brother attacked _me_."

"You provoked him."

"Did not."

"Yeah right. And I'm really a Weasley."

He stopped and examined her. "Are you?… Or are you a Slytherin?"

She kept on walking and he went on next to her. "I don't know what I am. But if being a Slytherin means groveling to the person above you while hurting others, then I wish I were a Weasley."

"Well if being a Weasley means being hot-headed and naïve and ungrateful and taking everything at face-value, then I'm glad I'm not one."

Her face was turning red and her features hardened when she looked at him. "You're exactly how you show yourself to be. An arrogant, foul, evil, deceitful, disgusting Slytherin." She spat the last word as if it came distasteful to her mouth. "I wish your father stayed in Azkaban, because that's where he deserves to be. I hope they tortured him as badly as he has tortured others. I'm sorry I that ever spoke to you."

His lips curled and he felt a very familiar feeling of scorn rise up in him. "And I'm very sorry I passed up a good shag."

This time she stopped, her eyes shiny with fury and hatred, and she ran away from him through the hallway. Suddenly he felt his entire body stiffen and he felt very, very…cold. A cold that chilled him through his skin and muscles down to his bones. Frozen. The very blood in his veins felt like it was freezing. Panic that was rising in him was made worse by the fact that he couldn't move. 'What have you done, you idiot,' he said to himself.

                        ______________________________________________

Ron gave the small package to her. She took it, but didn't do anything else, she was so shocked. If it was a ring, he would have gotten on one knee and opened it, right? She said to herself. Then again…

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" he asked eagerly.

With trembling fingers, she undid the silver ribbon and gently tore open the blue wrapping paper. She opened the box, and inside she something sparkling with gold and a dazzling fluorescent light. 

Hanging onto a delicate gold chain was the smallest and most beautiful Time-Turner she had ever seen. She was completely speechless. 

"The dust inside is made out of crushed diamonds and unicorn horn," he said, indicating the sparkling contents of the hour-glass. Hermione was still trying to find her voice, which seemed to have conveniently disappeared.

"There's no other Time-Turner in the world like it," he said gingerly, but her silence was beginning to worry him. "Er, why don't you look on the bottom?"

Carefully, as if even moving it might cause it to break, Hermione peered at the bottom. There was an intricately engraved bird amid two wands and superimposed among a beautiful 'R.'

"Did this…."  
"Yes. It used to belong to Rowena Ravenclaw. I knew how much you admired her."

"Oh Ron," the tears kept her from saying anything else. She threw her arms around him and he smiled, slightly surprised like he always did whenever she  hugged or kissed him.  "How on earth did you…I mean, this should be in a museum, not in a store. And I mean, time travel is highly regulated and…"

"Well, nobody besides Rowena has ever been able to use it for some reason, and that's why people have thought maybe it was fake. But not everyone can time travel, right? Or else every witch or wizard would be trying it. It's like being an Animagus, isn't it?"

She sniffed. "Yes, sort of. You have to learn how to do it and some people never do."

Ron began talking quickly and eagerly "And I sort of.. had a feeling about this one. It looks exactly like the one she wears in pictures. And I did a bit of research and only she could engrave things with her sign exactly like that. That's why I think this was really hers. But if you can't use it, then you know its safe. So you won't have to take it back because…."

"Because what?"  
"Because I had it engraved." He said shyly. He showed her the top. It said: _To my dearest Hermione, with love for all time, Ron. _

It was official. He had given her the most wonderful, the most amazing gift she thought she would ever receive. She put her hand on his cheek and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. He held his breath and put his arm around her waist and he tasted the saltiness from her tears and he felt the beating of her heart and for the first time in what felt like ages he felt truly happy.

                                    _______________________________________________


	14. Temptation

**A/N: Hi! I have been working as fast as possible, and considering that I'm also updating another story at the same, those who are also writers will agree that its very hard to work faster than two updates a week, with chapters as long as mine. In fact, this chapter, I'm happy to say, is a bit longer than others, and I think you guys will like it.**

To my readers:

**Lil-Judie: Yeah, I hoped it would be cute, and I wrote it thinking, what would I want my boyfriend to give me if he were a wizard?? Thanks for reading!**

**PrincessofDarkness6: I hope you read the rest of the story, then you really find out what happens!! My other story also deals with Voldemort actually having a daughter. Its pretty long so far, and I'm hoping to finish it…Maybe ur interested?? (shameless plug, hehe, sorry)**

**D/H fanatic: Yes, I myself don't have much of a lovelife, so I make up for it by writing about it, hehe. I'm so happy these updates make your day, I hope this one does the same. Update your own story!! Much love to you and your basilisk and thank you so much for continually reading and reviewing!! Don't worry, I just found out that the hot lifeguard ive been admiring for months at the public pool I go to has a girlfriend!! So I know how you feel….. I wish you luck in ur fanfic reading and writing and also in your love life (wink wink).**

**Iarejedi: Yes, I really do love torturing Draco, esp since he can never keep his snide comments to himself. You see what he really gets himself into in this chappie. Thank u for reading!**

**Harmonic Sakke: Thank u for the lovely review. I'm glad you liked the humor, I try to be as funny as possible to give a breather between the dramatic scenes (like Shakespeare, hmmmm). I really don't know how I came up with that little Snape visual, I just thought whatever would cause a look of horror on someone's face, hehe, I like Snape, mainly because my sisters and I have an ongoing inside joke with him and a pair of fluffy bunny slippers…but that's another story altogether, hehe. You see more of typical Ron and Hermione in this chapter as well**

**Quietus Mal Foi: I think you'll like this chapter better….some D/H action….(whistles and says no more)**

**The Elfin Child: sigh, I know, diamonds are a girl's best friend….My thoughts exactly about Ginny in the fifth book. Thank u for reading and I hope u like this update!**

**SyaoronsAngel: I got so happy when I found out you were still reading!! I really hope you ahd fun on ur vacation, I have always, always wanted to go to Australia ( I think it has something to do with Lleyton Hewitt, that hot hot Aussie tennis player, giggles).  Thank you so much for still reading, and I'm glad you enjoyed the R/H moment, even tho it wasn't a D/H one!!! Oh, and I try to end my chapters either with a good moment, or a cliffhanger…makes things a bit…interesting. Feel free to ask if you have any other requests. Happy reading!**

**JediAmoira: To be fair, Aberzombie and Witch is not mine, I read it in another hilarious fic which unfortunately, I cannot remember. But everything else is mine!! I hope you'll be surprised as to what happens next!!**

In this chapter: We find out what really happened to Draco and if he's going to be alright. Also, Ginny sees Hermione's present and we see what ensues…oh yeah, and did I mention that there's actually a bit of Dr/H interaction in this chapter??! It's alright, thank me later. Hehe.

I made up all the spells in this chapter, and Snape's passwords, by looking up Latin roots to certain words. If you'd like to know the translations, feel free to ask. I put in the poem because I wrote a paper on it and the ice and frost imagery has a lot of different meanings. I like symbolism and I try to put it in my writing.

                                                _And now there came both mist and snow,_

_                                                And it grew wondrous cold:_

_                                                And ice, mast-high, came floating by_

_                                                As green as emerald._

Samuel Taylor Coleridge_, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_                                        

Chapter Fourteen: Temptation 

            Hermione gazed at her present, still in her hand, with a contented smile. It seemed to look more beautiful the more she stared at it. Ron smiled and took it from her.

            "It goes around here, you know," he said, putting the necklace around her neck. Hermione moved her hair out of the way and Ron  kissed her on the neck. She kept on staring at it. 

            "You know, I have a book that just might confirm if this is the real thing," she said.

            "Where is it?"

            "It's by Ginny. I'll go get it."

            "I wonder how she'll react to it. I didn't find anything from Helga Hufflepuff," Ron said regretfully.

            But Hermione had furrowed her brows. "Do you think we should tell her at all?" Ron looked at her, puzzled. Hermione continued. "I mean, she's the one who needs attention at the moment and…"

            "You think she'll be jealous?" Ron looked at her incredulously.

            "No, its just that…" she didn't know exactly what to say. "The truth is, I don't want Ginny near any object that could potentially be magical."

            "In other words, you don't trust her," Ron said tersely.

            Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind. "Well, yes," she said, looking him straight in the eye.

            "The thing hasn't done anything magical in more than a thousand years," Ron said evenly, but with a hint of anger.

            "But Ginny has special powers! And with her acting like she has been lately…"

            "Which is completely understandable, given what has been kept from her…" Ron said threateningly.

            Hermione made an exasperated noise. "You're so hypocritical! You said it yourself!  Acting up against Dumbledore, against Lupin, and now the whole thing with Draco…"

            "Draco??" Ron sputtered. "You're on a first-name basis with him? What, does he call you Hermy now after he refers to you as a Mudblood?"

            "Stop being ridiculous," Hermione said.

            "Ridiculous?? You're the one having clandestine conversations with my worst enemy! Telling him things he might use against us!"

            "It's not like I told him where the Order of the Phoenix is located or anything!  You're just mad that I told him something that might just hurt your ego," Hermione glared at him.

            "Well, you'll excuse me if I'm a bit pissed over the fact that my _girlfriend is checking out  the one git I hate the most while I go off buying an expensive present for her!"_

            "I never asked you to buy me anything! You know you never have to do something like that!" 

            "Then how come…I'm always so constantly afraid of losing you?" His voice broke at the end and Hermione's anger quickly fizzled. How was it possible that Ron could make her feel so wonderful, then so furious, then guilty, all in a matter of minutes?

            She looked down at her necklace, which sparkled back at her in the candlelight. She took Ron's hand. "Why do you feel that way?" she whispered.

            His anger had seemed to tone down as well. "I don't know," he said, looking away. "It's just that…not a lot of good things ever happen to me. And when they do…I feel like they don't mean so much, either cause my brothers have already done it, or it happened because of a special reason that had nothing to do with _me. It's like I never deserve anything that happens to me…so I'm constantly terrified of losing it."_

            Hermione shook her head. "Ron, that's not true."

            "It is! Like when I became prefect in the fifth year. Even _you were surprised when you heard it."_

"Ron, Dumbledore had his reasons—he thought you deserved it."

 "I asked Dumbledore myself why he chose me. I never told you that. Do you know what he said?"  She shook her head again. Ron sighed. "He said that he felt Harry had too much to deal with already. And that he felt I could help him more if I had some more influence in the school. Did you hear that? It was never supposed to be me! Harry was supposed to be prefect—I only became one because I'm his best friend!"

"Ron, I'm sure that wasn't the only--"

"And when I became Seeker for the team.."

"You got better and better! You're just as good as Oliver Wood now!"

"But I was completely useless the first year! The only reason Angelina left me in was because my brothers were good players."

Hermione stared at him. "Ron, I picked _you_, didn't I?"

He nodded.

"And I could have picked Harry instead, right?" He shrugged in agreement.

"But I didn't. Do you know why?" He shook his head. She smiled. "Trust me, it had nothing to do with your brothers." He smiled. She looked at him, reconciled, but a bit weary. "I think I'd better go find that book, before we fight again."

He gave a short laugh. "No wonder Harry is always annoyed with us. We're always at each other's necks."

"Trust me, I don't like it much, either."

"Then why _did you pick me?"_

"Don't be so hard on yourself the whole time, and then you'll see why. It's not like I already didn't tell you why right before you even gave me this necklace." She kissed him on the lips, but he twisted his mouth uncomfortably. "What about Ginny?"

"I'll tell her about your present. If she finds out we've been keeping things from her, she'll never trust anyone again." Ron nodded. "I'll be right back," she said as she went out the door, leaving Ron feeling slightly better, but not as good as he'd expected he'd end up feeling. But in a way, he was glad Hermione didn't stop fighting with him just because of a present—in a strange way, that translated that he meant more to her than just that.

                                    ________________________________________

Draco Malfoy was panicking, and he didn't like the feeling--he barely ever panicked. But this time he had a good reason, because his head was throbbing and he was feeling dizzy and he couldn't move and everything felt so damn _cold. Besides the unbearable pain in his head, his entire body was frozen numb. He could see the blood draining from his skin, making it look like he was made of porcelain. The edges of his fingertips were turning blue he saw tiny icicles beginning to form on them, and a layer of frost forming onto his robes and he had started to panic when he realized it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his consciousness. Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. He swore he would kiss the next person who showed up and helped him._

He immediately regretted thinking this. Walking in front of him was none other than Hermione Granger.

"Oh my…"

She halted in a second of ambivalence—she didn't know whether to help him or not. Then she shook off her surprise and indecision and immediately pulled out her wand. The Steaming Spell she performed managed to melt the frost, but the instant she did he fell to the ground, his legs and knees in an aching pain; he realized the only reason he was up before was that his legs were frozen solid. His head was still hurting and he was still violently cold—and now he was wet from the melted ice.

"Are…are you alright?" 

He barely made out her face—his eyesight had grown foggy and he was shaking furiously. He fought to control his lips. "C-c-cold…" was all he managed to say.

Hermione was looking around frantically, then she went to his door and opened it. Draco's heart—already beating erratically, seemed to stop. "N—_no!"_

"What? I can't take you into my room, Ron's there," she protested. She began to pick him up, but he wouldn't cooperate. "N-no, b-being w-watched…" he muttered. Hermione had no idea what he was saying and looked at him worriedly. His face had gotten frighteningly white and he was still icy to the touch—even his hair seemed to have lost a bit of color.

"You need help…I'll take you to Madame Pomfrey's," she said, as she picked him up with much difficulty—he was quite taller than her.

"No," he said again, but let her pick him up this time. "S-Snape's room…downstairs…."

She looked at him curiously but then nodded. Her face was turning pink with exertion and she huffed and let him down again with a groan. His legs were still not cooperating. She put a Levitating Charm on him and steered him out of the hallway, Draco trying to get over the humiliation of being precariously levitated by a Muggle-Born—something that struck him as reminiscent of what his father would sometimes do to Muggles for amusement. Perhaps poetic justice did exist after all…

Snape's room was on the floor where all the teacher's rooms were located, but the portrait in front of his room seemed to be darker and with a more irritated disposition than all the others.

"You have no right being here! This floor is for teachers _only_," said the wizard with the dark gray beard and dark, hollowed out eyes in the portrait. "I shall be informing Professor Snape immediately when he returns."

"Er," said Hermione, who obviously did not know what else to say.

                        Draco stared at him blearily and muttered, "_Malignus mortis_."

                        The wizard ceased his berating and whipped his head towards Draco. "What was that?"

                        "_Malignus mortis," he said, even more weakly._

"How do you know the password?" he demanded.

"What does it matter?" Hermione piped up, "He knows it, so you'd better let us in. Isn't that all your job entails?"

"My _job, young lady, is much more important than that," said the wizard, offended, but he reluctantly let them in anyway. _

Not surprisingly, Snape's room was not exactly filled with bright colors. The large four-poster bed in the middle of the room was covered in dark gray hangings, and the rug and curtains had similar dark colors. Even the stone fireplace did not radiate any warmth. In the corner was a large cabinet and another large desk in the corner covered with cauldrons, bottles, and jars containing various potions. Hermione took Draco to Snape's bed, although she was not sure Snape would have liked it, and she lit some candles with a flick of her wand.

"You feeling any better?" she asked. He shook his head. Hermione helped him remove his damp cloak and she put it on the floor, praying it wouldn't stain anything.

Draco pointed at the desk in the corner and a bottle of Warming Potion caught her eye. Hermione went and poured some of it into a goblet. She handed it to Draco, whose fingers were still trembling. He gulped it gingerly and closed his eyes—the heat came to him like a sort of comfort in a blizzard. The cold had seemed to spread deeper than his bones, and more permanent than any chill he had ever heard of, and now it finally started to recede a bit.

Hermione stared at him. He was pale as ever, his skin shiny and his eyes like chips of ice, but he wasn't staring at her with the sort of malice she was always accustomed to. In fact, he hadn't even insulted her; then again, he was barely able to speak at all, and it seemed as if he had no choice at the moment. She had quite a strange feeling, sitting next to him on Snape's bed, watching him gulping the potion as if he were sipping tea. 

"Here," she said, as she performed her Steaming Spell once again, this time drying his clothes. He felt his clothes, and remained silent, apparently satisfied. Hermione was getting more anxious. "Are you still cold?"

Honestly, he still was, but at least it had become more bearable; however, even though the potion slightly alleviated the bitter cold, he felt that it was showing no signs of going away. "I'm fine," he said hoarsely. "You can go now."

But Hermione wasn't convinced. She hesitated, but put her palm on his forehead to feel his temperature. He moved himself away immediately, as if her touch gave him an electric shock. The goblet fell to the floor, the potion seeping into the cracks in the stone. He was staring at her with contempt. "How dare you put your filthy hands…"

Hermione was taken aback—she wasn't completely shocked, but his scorn still hurt her a bit. "I just helped you, didn't I?" When she had touched him, his skin felt like a soft piece of ice, and yet he was reviling her help.

"I never asked you to help me, and I don't think defiling me with your foul touch means helping me." But the truth was, he had moved away from her because her touch was so surprising—surprising in that when she touched him, he was instantaneously warmed—much better than anything the potion had done.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, even if it means you're back to your normal self," she said. But she stared at him curiously—she had seen a tinge of warmth appear on his cheeks when she touched him, but now it seemed to be fading away. She was intrigued, and her curiosity in magical powers overtook her. She grabbed his hand and he tried 

            wrenching it away, but she held on, and the only effect he had in moving his hand away was to move her face closer to his. Her breath on his cheek had a wondrous warmth that seemed to get the frozen blood flowing more smoothly in his veins. 

                        "Let me go," he said.

                        "No," she said, and moved her other hand to his cheek. He took in a long, shuddering breath and closed his eyes; to her amazement, Hermione saw the color slowly seeping into his face, like a vague paint spreading from her fingers. She moved her other hand to his neck, and his skin was beginning to feel like a normal, warm-blooded person's. The heat from her touch was coming to him like a sort of salvation. Doubting her sanity, but moving as if she were following a sort of instinct, Hermione loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt slightly as she put her hand on his chest. He lowered his head over her hand and put his own on hers. He was breathing rhythmically and Hermione tipped his face up to hers. Usually, his expression was completely blank or unreadable, but this time, it was hard to understand because it was full of so many emotions—shock, relief, anger—all struggling within him at the same time. She leaned in closer, partly because she had never seen him like that before and wanted to see more, but also partly for another reason she couldn't quite describe. She had one hand on his face and the other on his chest, his heart thumping right under her fingers, as if her touch was like its lifeline at the moment. She barely noticed that  his nose was inches from hers.

            Then the door suddenly opened and Hermione let go in a fright—it was like letting go of an electric plug and having the power suddenly stop flowing through you. 

            A familiar voice came from near the door, but it had a very unfamiliar tone. "Merlin's beard, I never would have thought…" Snape said in a surprised whisper.

            "Professor!" Hermione cried, moving away from Draco, who was still sitting on the bed, holding his chest, breathing a bit heavily, as if he had not noticed Snape had even entered. Snape, however, was looking livid and he was clutching his left arm.

            "What is going on here? Who gave you the authorization to be here?"

            "Sir, Malfoy, er…well, he was hit by a spell and--"

            "What sort of spell? By who?" Snape snapped.

            "Well…I…I don't know," Hermione said lamely.

            Then Draco murmured, as if coming out of a sort of reverie. "Ginny…_Gelidus Curse.."_

            "What?" Snape said, leaning over to him, his dark hair falling to his face. "Did you give her Dark powers, boy?" he said, slightly shaking Draco, who nodded. Snape looked furious, but instead of saying something to him, he rounded on Hermione. "Get me some Warming Potion--"

            "On the desk? Already did, sir," she said, a bit timidly. 

            Snape felt Draco's forehead and then looked back at her. "His temperature is stabilized; what else did you do?"

            "I dunno…I just…_touched _him," Hermione said. Knowing Snape, she wouldn't have been surprised if he punished her for something. But he had furrowed his brow, thinking hard. 

            "Of course…" he muttered.

            "Sir, what's going on?" she said, but Snape ignored her. He addressed Draco. "What happened? Did you make her angry? Where is she now? How come she's not here, or hasn't told anybody?"

            "Yeah, she was angry at me…But I don't think she realized what she did. She left before she saw what happened to me."

            Snape was scolding him as if he were his son. "How could you be so foolish? You know what she's capable of! You could have _died_."  

            "What? What kind of a spell is this? How come it's not anything I've heard of?" Hermione was worried—partly because this was a spell she had no idea about, which came as a bit of a shock to her.

            "Of course you haven't heard of that spell, you silly girl," said Snape, apparently having completely forgotten that she had just saved his favorite student. "Only those most immersed in the Dark Arts even _know_ about it—let alone to perform it. It involves freezing a person more severely than anything natural force can be capable of. Slowly the person's extremities freeze first, until the entire body shuts down or goes into shock. All your nerve endings freeze and crack off, until the blood flow to your brain completely freezes. It's a very cruel, painful way to die."

            Hermione gaped in silent horror. "And Ginny …did this….without knowing?"

            Snape was still looking angrily at Draco. "Do you know how much danger you have put us all in? Why did you do this, boy? Did your father tell you to do it?"

            "I didn't _know. I didn't know that anger would cause her to have Dark Powers. Father never told me anything," he replied quickly._

            "What? Will somebody please tell me _what is going on_?" Hermione said, bewildered.

            Snape replied distractedly, not looking at her, and it seemed as if he were giving the information to Draco as well as to her. "I have known about Ginny ever since you were infants. A prophecy was made at the time of her birth. She was destined to gain extraordinary powers, and that was why Slytherin was afraid for her life, and why You-Know-Who took her to raise as his heir. But, she is just as much Helga Hufflepuff's daughter as she is Salazar Slytherin's. She had an equal chance of having her powers be Dark or not: it all depended on _how she gained her powers," he gave Draco one of  his piercing stares, "and it should not be deliberate, or else she would not gain any powers at all—it had to be decided on….fate, or chance or..." he searched for the right word but couldn't find one._

            "What else did the prophecy say?" Draco asked quietly.

            "That's all," said Snape, "or at least all Salazar Slytherin had recorded in the _unpublished version of his memoirs," said Snape wearily. "Dumbledore thought it would be best if she, like Harry, stayed with blood relatives for protection—Mr. Weasley has Hufflepuff ancestry--but have her true identity kept a secret." _

            "But sir," said Hermione, now moving so that she faced Snape, "why was I able to…er, save Malfoy?"

            Snape looked directly at her this time, and spoke evenly, in a tone of voice that indicated he himself had not always comprehended the full workings of what he was about to say. "The powers of those who practice Dark Arts can be limitless, but they always have a weak side. Whenever magic involves love, sacrifice, a genuine desire to aid somebody else, then it is possible to overcome Dark magic. Those in the Dark Side are trained to constantly seek more power—and they cannot do that if they have these, er, benevolent characteristics, and therefore they do not understand them and want nothing to do with them. This is very ancient, very deep magic and even I do not fully understand all of its manifestations, although Dumbledore might." He finished with a resigned sigh.

            "So….so Ginny still might have a chance to be saved?" Hermione said hopefully.

            "Perhaps," said Snape, "but it is very easy to fall into. You cannot completely understand what I'm talking about until you've tasted the power and abilities you have when doing Dark magic. You become obsessed…"he looked down with a dark expression on his face, "and always wanting more--more capabilities, more strength, more _power._ You become so embedded in it that it becomes…" he avoided her eyes, "nearly _impossible to pull yourself out."_

            Draco was gazing at him so intently that it was hard to believe that she still couldn't read his expression. They both knew Snape was speaking from personal experience, but they dared not say anything. Hermione has never heard him speak directly about Dark powers, and hearing him made him seem a bit more…human; it was not all that different from the strange feelings she had when she saw Draco fighting for his life and having her give it back to him.

            "Now, I believe you two should leave, but not before I order you, Mr.Malfoy, to get a final checkup from Madame Pomfrey," Snape said as he quickly scribbled on a note and gave it to him. hermione could tell he wanted to immediately change the subject. She got up to leave at the same time as Draco, and as they were about to enter the doorway, Snape said to them, "And keep an eye on, Miss, er, Weasley, and tell her that I am informing Dumbledore that it is urgent that he speak with her. Tell Dumbledore or myself whenever anything unusual occurs with her. Malfoy, I didn't give you the password to my room for nothing." But then his expression changed and he stared straight into Draco's eyes when he said, "Trust me, you would _not _want her to fall into the wrong hands." 

                                                ____________________________________________

            Hermione walked in hazily into Ginny's room  as if she were Luna Lovegood. After hearing everything Snape had said, she couldn't help but have her heartbeat jump a bit when she saw Ginny. To her surprise, Ron was sitting next to her, and they were both looking at a book.

            "Where in the bloody hell _were_ you?" he demanded when he saw her.

            "Oh, um," she muttered, but figured it was no use to lie. She said simply and frankly, "Ginny, do you know that you almost killed Draco Malfoy this evening? I found him in the hallway to our rooms."

            "What?" both Ron and Ginny said. Ron looked oddly threatened by this, but Ginny looked horrified. She spoke in a quick, panicked voice.

            "What did I do? Is he alright? I didn't mean to, honest--"

            "You put some sort of Freezing Curse on him, but he's fine now."

            Ron's temper had begun to slightly rise. "Did you _help _the git?"

            Hermione bit her lip. " Yes I did. You didn't expect me to just walk off and let him _die, did you?"_

            "But after all he's done to us…"

            "If anything permanent happened to him, Ginny would have been in more trouble, you know that. And what if a teacher had come and helped him and he said that I saw him and didn't do anything. Ron, I'm Head Girl, and I have a responsibility to me fellow students," she narrowed her eyes at him, "_all of them."_

            "Am I still in trouble?" Ginny asked quietly. 

            "Snape knows you didn't do it on purpose. But I think you're going to get that talk you wanted with Dumbledore sooner than you think." 

            Ginny looked down and Ron contented himself with grumpily crossing his arms. 

            "Er, how about showing me your present?" Ginny said, vainly trying to raise their spirits. Hermione took the necklace off and with a moments hesitation, handed it to her. Ginny admired it with a smile.

            "It's beautiful," she whispered. Ron smiled and Hermione sat next to her with the book in her hand. "I wanted to see if perhaps there were any pictures of Rowena Ravenclaw with this necklace, or if there's any information on it."

            "Ron and I found some pictures," Ginny said, flipping the pages. The portraits of  her, moving about elegantly, showed a beautiful woman with long, curly, dark brown hair and bright brown eyes. Hermione wished that she could tame her own hair to look like that. She was dressed in gowns of blue and silver and in all of the portraits she was wearing a small golden necklace in the shape of an hourglass hung around her neck. 

            "It says that after she developed magical time travel, she made it herself, and engraved it with her family sign—it was the first Time-Turner ever made, and according to legend, the most powerful. She never revealed its secret, and she enchanted it so that only she may be able to use it, and that's why we don't have Time Turners that can travel more than a few years through time," Ginny said.

            "Only she could use it?" Hermione asked. Ron looked at her nervously.

            "It says, 'only she and whoever she would have deemed worthy.' But apparently, that included nobody else for the past thousand years." Ginny stared at the necklace again. "Anyway, even if it isn't the real thing, it sure is a very remarkable imitation of it." She smirked towards Hermione. "Have you tried giving it a turn?"

            "No," she replied firmly and took the necklace from her. Ginny shrugged. Meanwhile, Ron had grabbed the book and they turned their heads when he gave gasp.

            "What is it?"

            "Look," he said, handing the book to Hermione. On the page was a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, the one that was disputed because of the date and location. 

            "Oh Ginny," said Hermione in a tight voice, "your mother."

            Ginny seized the book and looked it, her eyes shining with undropped tears. Except for the blue eyes and the expensive yellow gown, the woman in the portrait was virtually indistinguishable from Ginny herself.

                                                _______________________________________

            The moon shone brightly like half a big jewel suspended in the sky; its light gilded the tops of the trees and the stars in the dark, murky sky seemed to have caught its glow as well. Draco had studied each of them all throughout the night—he couldn't sleep. Not that he expected to at any rate. What happened with Hermione still haunted him, giving him a hot, constricted feeling in his chest and throat every time he remembered it. He remembered her bright eyes, her wild hair, so close to his face he could smell her, feel her breath. She had given him a strange heat, a heat that had come not only from her but had also come from inside of himself, and even though it excited him because of what it potentially meant, it also terrified him, precisely _because of what it potentially meant. All she had to do to save him was give her touch—because at that moment, despite everything he had done to her, she truly wanted to save him. He had at first refused it, in an odd panic: it was odd not because he was frightened of having something bad happen to him, but because he was frightened of being saved. But she had tried again, and the next time he could not prevent it, or perhaps he did not __want to prevent it, which unsettled him even more. She had saved his life, and he knew that in the wizarding world whenever anybody saved anybody else's life, that forged a special connection; he knew that her fingers had left an invisible burn mark on him, etched in a very subtle, yet very deep way.              _

                                                _______________________________________

            Ginny tore off the Invisibility Cloak—she had conveniently "forgotten" to  give it back to Harry; and now she used it to sneak into Hermione's room. She was quietly asleep, her curls strewn on her pillow, her soft breathing the only sound except the rustling of the trees outside. She glanced out the window, although she did not know exactly why. Perhaps it was just out of habit—she always loved staring at the moon and the stars, and they looked exceptionally beautiful that night. Maybe it was a sign, she thought, a sign to encourage her.

             She had gotten the idea when she saw her mother's portrait. She had looked so familiar, so inviting—she knew Helga Hufflepuff always loved to help people. She took in students no other House would, she would heal people that no other doctors would. That day she had nearly killed someone and had not even realized it, and as if she weren't already terrified at her powers, the fact that perhaps she might not be able to control them made her tremble even more. She needed guidance, and she needed it from a source she had never received before. The torturing desire that she had felt slowly rising by infinitesimal degrees every second, ever since she had learned who she really was, had now reached its apex, and she could not withstand it any longer.

            Moving as lightly as she possibly could, praying that Hermione's room did not have any loose floorboards, she tiptoed to Hermione's nightstand, right next to her bed. She saw the small box and gently took it and opened the lid—it was empty. Silently cursing, Ginny looked around the room, until she saw it—shining in the moonlight spilling through the window, lining Hermione's bed sheets with silver. It was glittering peacefully around her neck. Cursing even more vehemently, Ginny searched through her brain for a useful spell. She could kill a person by freezing them to death, couldn't she figure out how to unclasp a necklace? 

            She slowly took out her wand and tried to keep it steady. "_Ruptus," she whispered. With the tiniest clink, the delicate chain broke and the hourglass rolled onto Hermione's chest, rising and falling with her breathing. Ginny stretched out her fingers, but Hermione's rhythmic breathing suddenly halted and her eyes were stirring under their lids…_

                                    __________________________________________________

            Snape was working diligently in his room by candlelight, not caring what time of night it was. His drapes were always closed to the moon and stars. He had notified Dumbledore immediately what had happened, and Dumbledore had told him to make the most powerful Anger Reducing Draught he could, as soon as possible. He knew of course that Dumbledore would not have expected him to start working on it so soon, but he desperately wanted it ready. He grabbed his bottle of asphodel, which he always left open—it was too strong to be put in potions unless it was left to mix with the air; he had no idea of knowing that, days before, the Love Potion that Draco had thrown to the floor in front of his father had seeped through the floorboards, dripping through to the floor below, trickling down into that very same bottle….

            'I need this to be done,' he thought to himself, 'done before Ginny Weasley has time to do anything rash.'

                                    _____________________________________________________

            Ginny's heart skipped a beat, but she reacted quickly with reflexes born through playing Quidditch. "Dormire!" she whispered, and Hermione's hand, which was stirring seconds before, fell limply back onto her bed, and her soft breathing resumed. Grasping her chest in relief, Ginny stretched her fingers out once more until they closed on the tiny, cool, hourglass. She wrenched it to her. 'Whoever she would deem worthy'—the words echoed through her head. Closing her eyes, praying, wishing, hoping, she clenched the hourglass with trembling fingers and gave it exactly seven turns.

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	15. Entrances

A/N: Hi everyone!! After many months of not having a computer, and a few more of not writing, I am FINALLY updating my stories again!! I had given up on them at one point, but one reader had emailed me, saying they were still waiting for an update, and that was quite touching, so I got re- inspired. In the interest of time, I will re-post this chapter later with replies to your reviews, if people are still reading by some miracle. Meanwhile, Thank you all, those who have read before, and those who have started reading just recently. If you review, then I'll know this story is appreciated, and I'll keep on writing; almost all of the time, all those who review chapters will get a personal response back from me in the next updated chapter. Also, if you leave your email address, I'll send u an email whenever I update!  
  
Summary of the plot so far: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are in their seventh year. Ron loves Hermione. Draco is intrigued by her too, although he certainly won't admit it, wink wink. It has been found out that Ginny is really the daughter of Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff, (yes, some time traveling was involved here)and everyone in the Weasley family had known except Ron. Voldemort is after Ginny as a fellow Slytherin blood relative to replace him in a very evil deal he has had with Hell. In a romantic encounter that suddenly turned very explosive, Ginny gained new dark powers, thanks to Draco, now she is transforming into something quite dangerous. Draco's father is planning to double cross Voldemort and Draco is quite confused and torn, especially after Hermione saved his life. Snape is working on a potion to help Ginny, but it has accidentally gotten a bit of love potion in it. But he hasn't gotten to give it to Ginny yet–she's off right now stealing a Time Turner that Ron gave Hermione as a present. It once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw and is rumored to be the Time Turner that can travel farthest back in time. Ginny wants to use it to go see her real mother for the first time. Oh yeah, and by the way, Hermione is an animagus that can turn into a phoenix. Relieved sigh. That's the plot so far. Its actually a lot more twisted and fantastic once you read it and even now I'm a bit amazed at rereading it. I wonder how I pulled it all off, lol. Well, here's the continuation.  
  
I lived in the present, which was  
that part of the future you could see.  
The past floated above my head,  
like the sun and moon, visible but never reachable.  
  
From "Landscape," by Louise Gluck  
  
Chapter Fifteen: Entrances  
  
Ginny held the small Time Turner in her hands. The moonlight made the glass sparkle and gave it a silvery glow. It felt cool and smooth under her fingers. Holding her breath, she gave the Time Turner exactly seven turns.  
Absolutely nothing happened.  
Ginny gave an angry sigh. Trying to keep her temper down after such an anticlimax was not easy. Gritting her teeth, she waited. Five more minutes of absolutely nothing passed.  
The corners of her eyes began to prickle and she felt a lump welling in her throat. Why? she thought. This artifact once belonged to her very own mother's best friend; why did it fail her now? Why was she not "worthy"? She had never felt worthy of anything much of her life. With so many brothers, not worthy of her parents' full attention, not worthy of Harry's affection, not even worthy of knowing the truth all this time. And even now, not worthy. Why?  
Suddenly she had an insane urge to destroy the necklace. She wanted it shattered into a thousand pieces. She would crush it with her own fingers. She wanted to feel the sparkling sand flowing over them, and she didn't care if the broken glass would cut her skin. In fact, she wanted it. She wanted her blood to stain the glistening, iridescent powder. She wanted to feel the pain, to see if it matched the stinging agony of her shattered hopes. She wanted it.  
Her fingers tightened, but she heard a faint whisper.  
"Ginny? S'that you?"  
She turned around, and Hermione's sleepiness immediately disappeared when she saw Ginny, her eyes red and her cheeks wet from her tears, her red fingers clutching her Time Turner, which looked so delicate and beautiful amidst Ginny's rage and desperation that the contrast was slightly shocking.  
"Ginny? W-what are you doing?" Hermione said, trying to be as gentle as possible while hiding the panic in her voice.  
But now she was panicking not only because Ginny had her Time Turner. She was panicking at the look that came over Ginny once she saw her. Her look was frightening, an expression of anger and realization. The look said that something had just dawned on her and it was quite significant even though it made her seethe with rage.  
Of course, thought Ginny. Just look at her--her pretty white skin and chestnut curls. Those big brown eyes that were intelligent yet so innocent. It was why Ron loved her. Why Harry always admired her. Of course it would be her. It always was.  
Ginny smiled, but it was a smile with no comfort or friendliness. It was almost fiendish.  
"Hermione, I need you to do something for me."  
"What?" she barely breathed out.  
"Come here and turn this Time Turner for me."  
For a moment her courage failed her, but then she said, "Ginny, you know I can't do that."  
"Do it." At that point the tone of fake and innocent entreaty left her voice. Now it was just a hard, threatening command. Her wand was raised to Hermione's head.  
Hermione was unable to control the shaking in her voice as well as in her limbs. "Ginny, I....I w-want you to think very clearly about what you're doing. I know this isn't you and that you would never--"  
"How do you know what the hell I really want?" Ginny was screaming and terrified Hermione to the point that tears fell across her face. "Why does everyone think they know who I really am, when I don't know myself? If I don't, then nobody does. Nobody." She looked Hermione straight in the eye. "So stop trying to control me." She raised her wand closer to Hermione's throat. "I'm in control now."  
Hermione's throat throbbed with her heavy breathing. But you're not even in control of yourself right now, she thought to Ginny. But the look in Ginny's eyes made her honestly, seriously fear her life. She barely recognized Ginny, and wondered how her friend had come to this. Making no effort to stop the tears, she slowly got up from bed, Ginny's wand following her and pointing at her as if it were a sword.  
  
"Here's a cloak," Ginny said gruffly as she threw her cloak into her arms and then put the necklace of the Time Turner around both their necks.  
"Give it seven turns," she said to Hermione as she gave her the hourglass But before she could do anything, Ginny's voice brought her head back up. It was a bit more tender.  
"You have to understand. I need to do this." Hermione nodded sadly. She turned the hourglass seven times.  
Before they could even breathe, they were both sent into a huge whirlwind of confusion. The two girls were clutching each other, Ginny a bit more confused because she had never time traveled before and wondering if Hermione's strange frantic muttering meant she was praying. Finally, it all stopped as suddenly as it had began, but Ginny had a brief glimpse of a foggy gray sky right before falling through it and she felt the abrupt explosion of pain that came with her hitting the ground after falling more than forty feet.  
She yelled and then groaned while rubbing her head and back.  
"What happened?" she cried.  
"What do you mean, what happened?" Hermione said a bit angrily. She was still not willing to forget Ginny's attitude to her a few minutes ago. Or was that moment a few thousand years into the future? Hermione wasn't sure.  
"Where are we?"  
"Not where are we, but when. A Time Turner doesn't travel through space–only time. And since in Hogwarts castle we were some floors above the ground, we fell because obviously, there is no Hogwarts at this time in history. I realized this and used your wand to make our fall ....er, not kill us."  
"The Time Turner was supposed to take us back to the time when Rowena first invented it. Do you think it did?"  
"Possibly," said Hermione. She looked around their surroundings. The lake was still there, gray and familiar-looking as ever, the waves gliding heavily across the surface with the wind. They heard the shrill cry of some predatory bird which disappeared into the fog. The sky was completely white with clouds, and a heavy, foggy mist clung to the grass or anything with leaves or branches. They were standing on a gently rolling plain, between a hilly landscape, completely carpeted with dewy, untamed grass. A little far off, the ground darkened from the dense shadows of trees which she believed was the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A cold breeze stung their cheeks and blew their hair back. Ginny noticed that she was even more cold because she was slightly moist from the dew on the long grass and she noticed her shoes, robes, and palms were slightly muddy. Yes, there definitely was no Hogwarts castle, so Hermione thought it was safe to guess that they were at least a thousand or more years back in time. It disheartened her to see the dismally empty spot near the forest where Hagrid's cabin would be sometime in the distant future. Finally, she looked back at Ginny, whose face had gotten very pale–this was more noticeable because the cold brought a pink tinge to her cheeks and lips. It seemed she was growing more dangerous–and yet more beautiful, the more Hermione saw her.  
Suddenly they heard a distant rumble which grew more and more intense and sounded like the beating of many hoofs on the ground. The plants and grass began shaking and Hermione worried whether it might be cavalry horses, Vikings, or even a stampede of wild animals. She grabbed Ginny and ran until they hid behind some of the trees in the forest.  
Her first hunch seemed to be correct. A sizable army soon came into view, and in a few seconds they were able to see the thin shadows of horses and men.  
"Hermione, what do we do?" Ginny asked, a bit panicked.  
"Shhh!" Hermione hissed. She craned her neck from behind the tree to get a better view. She knew the possible disastrous effects of time travel and wanted to avoid being seen as much as possible. But as soon as they had said anything they heard the barking of dogs and the beating of hoofs which came much closer than they wanted to. They flattened themselves behind the trees. They heard the gruff voice of a man speaking what seemed like a harsh, Germanic tongue. A curt, deep voice answered him and then they heard the horses again, but this time it sounded like they went farther away, apparently satisfied that nobody was there. After holding their breath for a few more minutes, Ginny finally whispered.  
"What language do you think they were speaking?"  
"I'm not sure. Maybe its Old English. I couldn't make out anything." Ginny didn't reply, and only looked worried.  
"I know!" Hermione gently said. She still had Ginny's wand, and muttered a few words. It was a Translating spell, but before she could tell Ginny what she was doing, they heard the sounds of hoofs and the clinking of armor, even closer than before.  
"Are you sure that your hawk saw someone, my lord? We already checked," came the same gruff voice.  
The voice that answered him was immediately captivating and somehow succeeded to bring chills down the back of Hermione's neck.  
"Cathbad has never mistaken me before." His eyes flashed in their direction. "I know I saw some sparks behind that tree just now. Are you going to say that I am mistaken now?" he threatened.  
"No, of course not, my lord." Then the girls heard heavy footsteps coming towards them. Hermione bit her lip, but in vain. In seconds they were surrounded by heavy-set, dangerous looking men heavily clad in armor. They were filthy and many had some teeth missing. Their looks seemed anything but friendly.  
"My lord always had very good eyes," one of them said in disgusting pleasure.  
Two of them grabbed Hermione quite roughly and two others did the same with Ginny and yanked them towards their leader.  
He was sitting atop a handsome horse that was a deep, inky black color. Smooth and shiny silver armor covered him as well as the horse, and there was a rich dark green covering underneath the elaborately decorated saddle which matched his cloak. The insignia on his chest and horse showed a curled serpent with a forked tongue. From a few feet away Hermione recognized who it was and her stomach gave a lurch. She saw the pictures too many times before to not realize him. She was staring into the face of the young Salazar Slytherin. Even though he looked stern, and an air of dangerous strength surrounded him, he still seemed no older than seventeen or eighteen.  
She turned to Ginny, and saw that all of the color in her face had disappeared completely. She was staring at him in utter terror and awe. What Hermione did not know was that, despite his face being slightly hardened from battle, he bore an astonishing resemblance to someone that had haunted her dreams and thoughts for years--Tom Riddle. Strangely, he was eyeing both of them with...was that surprise?  
"We found these two hiding in the forest, my lord," said one of the soldiers.  
Then Slytherin cried out so suddenly and harshly that Ginny involuntarily drew back.  
"Idiots! Have you no idea who this is?" he demanded, pointing to Hermione, who drew back in terror. The soldier looked equally frightened.  
Slytherin slid off the horse as deftly as if he had been riding one since childhood. But when he approached Hermione, his voice was softer and even–tender.  
"My lady, why did you not tell them who you were?"  
Hermione was so shocked she couldn't even open her mouth. The soldier looked at her dubiously, but his expression changed as soon as Slytherin addressed him again.  
"How could you not have realized it was Lady Ravenclaw, the kinswoman to a king?"  
"Lady Ravenclaw? No, my lord," he said, and immediately the soldier bent on one knee and held Hermione's hand in a gesture of extreme apology. "You must forgive me, my lady. I did not recognize you with your...unusual dress."  
Hermione looked down at herself and suddenly realized she was standing in the mud in a cloak and nightgown. Her face and hands were filthy and her hair was woefully tangled.  
"Er. Right. Yes. We were, um, traveling under..disguise, Lord Slytherin." She emphasized the last word to give Ginny the idea of who he was. She seemed as if her legs might give way under her. One does not easily forget seeing one's father your own age face to face.  
"I can see," said the soldier, still a bit unconvinced. "Was your servant trying to look like a man? She's wearing the strangest pair of trousers and shoes I've ever seen." He smiled his disgusting smile again. "Although with such a lovely face, it would be quite hard to look like a man." He bared his disgusting teeth in Ginny's direction.  
Slytherin hit him across the face, and he staggered.  
"Have you no respect, you filthy rat?"  
Ginny giggled slightly and Hermione looked at her and realized she was wearing jeans and old, scuffed trainers. She tried to hold back a smile as well. The stricken soldier glared at them, holding his face–his lip was bleeding.  
"Sir, are you quite sure this is Lady Ravenclaw? Why would a princess travel in such conditions..." and his swollen lip twisted into a grin. "Why is she all by herself?"  
"Of course it's her, idiot," Slytherin snapped. He looked as if he would have enjoyed striking him again. "Can't you see the Time Turner around her neck? She informed me she had invented it a few weeks ago. But I guess a feeble-minded fool such as yourself could never understand such genius."  
Hermione smiled slightly. She still could not resist a compliment about her intelligence, even though it wasn't meant exactly for her.  
"Rowena," Slytherin said, turning to her. "My brute servant here still has a point, despite his manners. The thought of two ladies, especially one of your stature traveling alone is....unspeakable. What has brought you here so suddenly from Norway?"  
Hermione's mind worked fast, and she gave the first answer she thought of, although she wasn't sure it was the perfect one.  
"Er, my lord, I came here precisely to show you my invention. I could tell no one–I was afraid someone may try to steal it in Norway. I thought you may er, help me conceal it or protect it."  
  
He smiled. "Was Godric not with you to help you?" His face darkened. "He always is."  
Hermione encouraged him. "Oh you know Godric. He's always off at war. His sphere is in the battlefield, not in books. I need someone who is," she gulped, "proficient in both fields."  
His smile grew wider. He was still young enough to be won over with flattery.  
"Well, then. I will see to it immediately, my lady. And who, may I ask, is your consort?"  
Hermione did not know what to say. But Slytherin answered himself.  
"Of course, she is not a servant," he shot an angry look to the soldier he had just struck, "it must be Lady Hufflepuff, your new friend that you wrote to me about." He smiled at her and Ginny shuddered. "You said she had flowing hair the color of deep fire."  
But then he narrowed his eyes at her, staring into her own eyes. Ginny thought her heart might stop. "Then again, I may be wrong. I have never met Lady Hufflepuff, and there is something in your eyes that is....oddly familiar." D  
"No, sir," cried Hermione shrilly. "No, she is indeed Helga Hufflepuff. I changed the color of her eyes to help with the disguise. With a wave of Ginny's wand, she changed Ginny's eyes to blue. As soon as she did, Slytherin stopped looking at her with his piercing stare.  
"Hrothgar," he said to the soldier. "Fetch my two best horses, and some warm cloaks for the ladies. There is a storm coming. We shall take them to the Castle of Malfoy." He smiled at them. "He is a cousin of mine, and he is sure to receive us hospitably." But the prospect of going to Malfoys' house was not very heartening to them. Sensing their apprehension, Slytherin said. "Do not worry. I assure you that the accommodations will be quite proper. He is the ruler of this land."  
Hermione still felt like it was not a good idea, but the white sky had turned darker and darker–she could detect the damp smell of rain in the air before it fell. She did not want to be outside in a storm–and she didn't feel like opposing Salazar Slytherin at this time. She turned to him and with a small bow, she said, "I doubt not his hospitality. Any man of your kin must be of the most honorable knight in all the land. I will gladly accept your offer, my lord," Hermione said, bowing again and doing her best impression of any upper-class woman that she had either read about or seen in a movie. Ginny, taking her cue, also bowed. A smile spread across Slytherin's lips and his dark eyes glittered.  
Immediately, they were furnished with two horses; Hermione could tell both the clothing and the horses were quite fine. The one Slytherin gave to her was especially beautiful–it had an immaculately white body and yet ebony black hair on its mane and tail. He presented her with a cloak of rich blue velvet. She smiled, although still terrified to look im directly in the eye.  
"You didn't think I would ever forget my dear lady's favorite color, now would you?" Slytherin said with the smile he seemed to reserve only when speaking to her. Then he turned to Ginny, and her heart felt like it did a back flip inside her chest.  
He gave Ginny a rich yellow robe and said politely to her, "From what I have heard, the Hufflepuff clan displays yellow on their shields. Am I correct?"  
Unable to form any words in her throat, she nodded. Slytherin bowed and turned away. Ginny desperately wanted Slytherin to talk to her, or just to look at her again but didn't know what else to say. One of Slytherin's soldiers, apparently one who held a higher position than the others, held her hand as she got on her horse, which she did with some difficulty (the other soldiers stared at her). Hermione, on the other hand, got on a bit easier–she had a very rich cousin and she would visit him and ride horses from their family stables.  
The sky had gotten darker and darker with every hour they rode and by the time they had reached the edge of the grounds of Malfoy Manor, a misty sprinkle had begun to fall. Among the dark clouds, the building looked especially looming and even threatening. It was a massive structure, almost as big as Hogwarts itself, but it didn't seem to have the many spiky towers that give Hogwarts a somewhat unsymmetrical and idiosyncratic quality. Malfoy Manor was all structured grandeur, but had a cold, unwelcoming quality.  
Despite the large size of the house, only Slytherin, the girls, and a few of the highest ranking officers were allowed to enter the building. Most of the soldiers had split off during the journey to join another branch of the army and the remaining ones were forced to camp outside. Hermione realized that the Malfoys had been prejudiced against class for more than a thousand years.  
A large iron gate with large, elaborate M's wrought into it surrounded the Manor, and it opened seemingly by itself when they reached it. However, the fierce looking iron gargoyles on the gate turned their heads and watched them very closely. A flash of lightning almost seemed to make their eyes flash green. The girls knew that this gate seldom let in visitors so easily.  
They had to ride for some time after entering the gates to reach the enormous doors, the grounds were so big. Large trees cast dark shadows, indicating a sort of forest which extended behind the Manor. The entrance had an iron portcullis much like the gate, and the enormous door was made of heavy, extremely thick wood. The entrance opened in front of them with much noise and the girls entered with bated breath.  
They entered a large room with a very high ceiling. Their footsteps echoed uncomfortably on the stone floor and the fires in the enormous fireplace sent long shadows across floor and walls. Hermione heard the scurrying of small feet, presumable house elves bustling with extra work but trying not to be seen. The master of the house soon emerged from the shadows.  
  



	16. Living with the Dead

A/N: Hi again!! This took about a week longer than expected because my due dates for final projects were extended, and I am also very busy with the graduation of two siblings. Sorry about that, but here's the update!! But before, I need to take care of my great reviewers!! The responses to ur reviews (and I responded to EVERYONE) are at the end of this chapter, so I won't annoy u guys with scrolling down. I don't know if you like reading ur responses before reading this chapter, cause I might have given a few hints about it. I'm not sure what's a better method, at the beg. or end of the chapter. Let me know! Anyways, I was astonished by the number of reviews I got, especially after such a long drought from updating. You guys are so wonderful.  
  
To all the readers: I always give responses for reviews and send emails when I update. Thank u for reviewing. For all those who haven't reviewed, thank u for reading anyway!! But if you give ideas or hints, I tend to go with them and it makes it VERY interesting. In this chappie: I wonder how people will be respond to Slytherin's characterization. I hope it might be a bit surprising. And since I know you guys LOVE Malfoys, there's one in this time period as well!! The chappies following this one will be even better!  
  
I was looking for a poem to put for this chapter, and I was browsing and found this by accident. I had never seen it before but it fit so nicely. It's the last stanza of the poem, and it also connects with the chapter coming after this one.  
  
_ The land of shadows wilt thou trace  
And look–nor know each other's face,  
The present mixed with reasons gone  
And past and present all as one?  
Say maiden, can thy life be led  
To join the living with the dead?  
Then trace thy footsteps on with me–  
We're wed to one eternity.  
_  
John Clare, _An Invite to Eternity  
_  
**Chapter Sixteen: Living with the Dead  
  
** From his looks he was definitely a Malfoy. Perhaps no more than a few years older than Slytherin himself, he had Draco's youthful yet sharp good looks, but Lucius's long blond hair and malevolent arrogance, although age had not given the sinister gravity that Draco's father had. He greeted Slytherin with well-bred yet cold civility.  
  
"My dear cousin, so nice to see you. Although I wish you had informed me sooner that we were to have to have the honor of such ladies to grace us with their presence. I would have made the appropriate...preparations to accept them." He gave the girls a sneaky smile and he seemed to eye Ginny with an especially disturbing amusement.  
  
Slytherin answered without so much fake politeness. "My apologies, cousin. It was by a stroke of fate that I should meet these ladies. But knowing their position and worthy birth, I had no choice but to take them in for their protection; you've already heard of one of them–she is one of my closest friends from childhood. May I present, Rowena Ravenclaw. My lady, this is my cousin."  
  
He motioned to Hermione, and she took a small step forward, blushing furiously. He took her hand, leaned his head downwards, and kissed it ceremoniously. He got up and said, "My lady, your intellect in your magical powers are legendary. I am honored." Hermione muttered a thank you and attempted a curtsy, not having the slightest idea of what she should do. Then Malfoy looked at Ginny, his smile growing wider.  
  
Slytherin said, "This is her companion, Helga Hufflepuff." Ginny stepped forward also and bowed. He kissed her hand as well, a little longer, and she blushed as red as her hair. Noticing this, he said, "Do not be embarrassed, my dear. One can never pay too much attention to beautiful lady. It is the duty of a knight." Ginny looked quite uncomfortable.  
  
Then Malfoy turned around and ordered a few terrified-looking female house-elves, all whose green eyes looked a lot like Dobby's, in Hermione's opinion.  
  
"Make sure these ladies are properly dried off and dressed. We shall be having dinner shortly. Give them the best clothing in the house. Nothing is to be spared for them." They couldn't speak, but gave high pitched squeaks and an extremely low bows which indicated their subordination. Malfoy turned to the girls.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry, ladies. Your coming here has been on such short notice I only have my house-elves to attend you. If you agree to stay a few days, I can get you some proper servants."  
  
Hermione murmured that she didn't need such indulgence and she was sure they would be as comfortable as possible. In reality, both of them wanted to stay and listen to Malfoy and Slytherin talking to one another. But the house-elves had grabbed their arms by their pudgy fingers and had already whisked them upstairs.  
..................................

Draco sat up in his bed, unable to sleep but very exhausted. He ruffled his fingers through his hair (it was becoming a habit) and hunched over, staring at the floor, but really at nothing in particular. He wanted the sick, twisted feeling in his stomach to go away. He even tried ordering it away, as if it would scamper out of his sight like all the house-elves back home would do in his presence. But no, it only got worse once he realized how much it was troubling him. He remembered what Snape said about Ginny. Never let her out of your sight. What had he done to her? Even he had no idea what changes she was about to undergo. With an ache in his chest, he remembered the curse she had put on him, the impenetrable, terrifying cold...  
  
But the strange thing was that the curse really was penetrable–and Hermione of all people had shown him that; she was the one who had taught him the most surprising, and perhaps most important secret of Dark Magic–despite its awesome power, it will always have a weak spot. He had given Ginny Dark Powers through her anger, her hate. But he had actually done it without such malevolent intentions. Maybe it meant there was some hope for her after all. Surely there was hope in her; surely there was, because Hermione, if he had read her eyes correctly, those bright eyes when her fingers were on his neck and thumping right along with his chest, she had seen a hope in him.  
  
His eyes wandered over the floor in his room, and they suddenly stopped when he saw the broken vial still on the floor, its potion still leaving the floorboards around it slightly darker from moisture. He got up from his bed, walked over to the broken glass in his bare feet and put his fingers onto the wet floorboards. His fingers were stained red from the potion, as if he had just eaten cherries and its juice remained on them. It stained his fingernails red and he actually contemplated, in a hysterical second, putting his fingers in his mouth. He wanted to taste what it felt like, to desire someone with an overwhelming passion. He wanted to know if it would feel like the real thing...if it was anything like what he was feeling for somebody at that instant.  
  
But he just left his fingers there, staring back at him from his outstretched hand. His eyes numb, and as if half in a trance, he went over to his bathroom and washed his hands in the sink, the cold water coming as a shock, as if his body could not take being hit with any more cold. He looked into the mirror over the sink, the moonlight reflecting off his hair and making his pale eyes quite dark, and his skin looked even more sallow in the bluish grayness of the night. He was looking at himself in the mirror even though he had never turned on the light. He didn't bother, because he knew the light would hurt his eyes.  
  
............................................ 

"Will you stop tearing off my clothes?" Hermione cried.  
  
"But Mistress needs to have her bath!" the elf squeaked in her high pitched voice.  
  
"Alright, alright. I'll take a bath. Go and draw it for me and I'll take one. You don't need to take off my clothes for me," she said, annoyed. She had been battling with the elf for a few minutes because she had removed her robe and was going for her nightgown so suddenly that Hermione instinctively grabbed it and the elf had been tugging it from her.  
  
"But Minky always dresses and undresses the ladies when they come to our house as guests! It is an honor for Minky's. Her mother and grandmother and great grandmother--"  
  
"I know, I know. But I don't want you to now, okay?" She had grown more and more exasperated with the poor thing's complete servitude.  
The elf's big green eyes watered and her big ears quivered. Suddenly she burst into tears at Hermione's feet. "Minky has offended Mistress! Oh I beg your pardon, m'lady! Please forgive Minky! She is a bad, bad house- elf!"  
  
Hermione tried hushing her. "No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. It's alright, really." The elf raised her head, her eyes still dripping. "But why else would Mistress deny Minky to serve her? Mistress is filthy--"  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes and for an instant the elf threatened another outburst. Her gaze softened and she whispered, "No, its just that..its just that...I'm a little shy, okay?" This was quite true. Hermione was always the one who cringed a bit every time she'd go to the doctor's office for a check-up. Getting her own bathroom as Head Girl was one of the greatest reliefs. Beneath her cleverness, her confidence, Hermione always hid a self-consciousness, a great fear about herself. She was constantly worried that she would never get good enough marks, that she was never working hard enough, that she was never pretty enough...  
  
"Shy!" Minky exclaimed in a voice which Hermione thought was a bit too loud. She hushed the elf again, who continued in a voice not very much lower. "But none of the other ladies had ever been shy."  
  
"There hasn't been a real lady in this manor for years," came the voice of another, older house-elf. She was escorting a slightly pink Ginny in a towel, her hair flowing over her bare shoulders. "Master only has those...things over at our house nowadays. They have no shame, they'll give themselves to the pleasure of a man before he even utters a breath."  
  
"What is you saying, Aunt Tildy! Those are master's guests, " gasped Minky, her eyes widened.  
  
"His guests, indeed," she sneered with disdain, and she went off to tend to Ginny.  
  
"Who is she talking about?" Hermione asked.  
  
"No one, no one," Minky said hurriedly. "Just some guests Master has over from France sometimes." She shooed Hermione to another room, and on the stone floor, washed in the candlelight of many white candles, there stood an enormous bathtub, its stubby legs gilded with silver and gold. The liquid inside was creamy and foamy. She saw that the elf had remained outside the room and Hermione quickly took off her gown, but not before hiding her necklace underneath the bathtub. She slid into the bath, and the warm, heavy-scented liquid was immediately comforting.  
  
........................................

Draco shuffled his bare feet across the cold floor and was about to touch the covers of his bed. That is, until he heard a bloodcurdling scream.  
  
The scream, ridiculously high pitched and painful to the ears, seemed to have thrown the entire school into frenzied alarm. He heard the sound of doors banging open and people talking in low and high voices. He grabbed a robe and hastily slipping his feet into some slippers, went outside. He walked through the hallway and went immediately downstairs to the dungeons and the Slytherin Common Room. He passed students, from first years to the older prefects, some wide awake in panic, and others bleary-eyed, sticking their heads out or wandering outside curiously. A large bunch of Slytherins dressed in dark robes and with even darker looks on their faces were waiting for him. The newly enchanted fire in the fireplace cast dark shadows across their faces. They looked slightly sinister, with their dark expensive robes and sparkling eyes and hair. As soon as he entered, they attacked him with a barrage of questions.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"Did somebody get hurt? Hope it was a Mudblood."  
  
Draco held his hands up and tried calming everyone down. "Quiet!" They were all immediately silenced; in fact, they obeyed him so unequivocally that it slightly surprised him. Did they know something? Did they think he had something to do with it?  
  
"I don't know what happened. I'm going to talk to Dumbledore right now. I'll be back soon."  
  
"Sure you don't know what happened," came a scathing female voice from the back. It was Pansy, her usual supercilious and flouncy demeanor all gone. Her arms were crossed and she looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Why don't you just go ask that red-headed whore you were with a few hours ago."  
  
Several of the younger years whispered with a mix of worry and disdain. The older years just stared at him severely, as if they had known all along.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about Pansy. So try keeping your trap shut until I come back. If I had anything to do with this, you'd think I'd be here?" She looked up at the ceiling with disdain. Pursing his lips, Draco left the Common Room with a feeling of threat coming from his own house that he never thought possible.  
  
............................................

Ginny liked what she saw when she looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a long yellow dress made of very rich fabric. It showed off her waist and had a relatively low neckline. Her long red hair was especially shiny and smooth after that wonderful bath; it was partly puled back, revealing her delicate jawline, but it still flowed over her shoulders.  
  
She felt more comfortable than she ever had in her life. Finally, the odd feeling that had been tugging inside her since she was a girl had gone. She had never told anyone before, but she always felt like she never belonged. At first she thought it was the natural effect of being the only girl in a house full of boys, but her mother (or so she had thought of her as) had always made her feel better about it, saying it made her special, not isolated. No, it wasn't that. It was something else. It was what had made her so eager to go to Hogwarts–maybe she would belong there. But after the events of her second year her classmates had avoided her like something dangerous. She had felt even more isolated than before. And the situation of her crush on Harry had not helped either. The taunts from the Slytherins were unbearable. But worse than that, she couldn't even talk to her own brother, Ron, and his friends because of that. She learned to get over it in her fourth year, and finally being able to talk to Harry was an enormous relief. She felt that if she dated a lot of boys it would help banish her image in other people's eyes as Harry's hopeless admirer. Again, another failed attempt at acceptance. All the boys she went out with did not stay with her long. They could tell she was a bit...different. She had despaired over it, spent endless nights crying silently in her room about it, wondering what the hell was wrong with her. It always unnerved her but was impossible for her to pinpoint. Like the feeling you get when you know you have forgotten something but can never remember what, no matter how hard you tried.  
  
But now, in a rapturous rush of relief, it had all gone. Just like the rush of an unexpected remembrance, the feeling she got from looking at herself in the mirror made it all go away. So this was what her life should have been like. Rich clothes. Respect from powerful figures. Servants fawning over her every move. Living in elegant castles and riding horses and being revered wherever she went. The happy feeling had left as suddenly as it had gone. She felt a lump growing in her throat–at what she had been closed off to all these years, what she had been denied.  
  
She felt the Dark Mark prickle on her arm. The house elf had seen it while she was getting ready for her bath and examined it very suspiciously, muttering something about her master and his appalling taste in women. Ginny tried putting it in the back of her mind. She made her way to the large room where she left Slytherin and Malfoy,  
  
Hermione walked out of the room a bit shyly. The dress she was wearing felt silky and luxurious against her skin, with its long flowing skirt and sleeves which extended to her knees. It was a rich, royal blue with silver lining and paneling on her chest. Her brown hair was sleek and neatly and elegantly braided with gold and silver thread, her plait lying on her back. The house elves had put some sort of powder on her face that gave her skin a faint glow. She had to stop herself from blushing furiously every time the elves–and the portraits on the walls–complimented her. She wanted to get out as quick as possible but was even more scared of going into the room with the two young men. But then she saw Ginny out of the corner of her eye and couldn't help but smile. She looked stunning. Ginny saw her and gave a smile back. Her face didn't show it, but she was clutching her left arm with a slight nervousness.  
  
When Slytherin saw Hermione he rushed to her and bowed--it was quite interesting, because Hermione couldn't tell if it was merely ceremonious, or if he sincerely respected her. He was not wearing his armor anymore, and consequently looked a bit less intimidating and more...handsome. He was wearing a crisp green tunic and boots, and now that the girls had him in full view off his horse, they noticed how very tall he was. His hair and face was grimy from battle when they had first seen him, but now it had been washed, making his nearly black eyes stand out more against his skin. Hermione could make out a bit of dark stubble near his chin and jawline. She blushed furiously when he took her hand. She wished he would look away, look anywhere except at her. Ginny stared at them with a hint of steeliness, her mouth firmly set. Malfoy smiled, amused, at Slytherin's behavior towards Hermione. He accepted the ladies much more curtly, and as he went back to his seat and the girls walked further into the room Hermione couldn't help but stop dead in her tracks for a moment.  
  
Leaning next to Malfoy's seat were two exquisitely beautiful women; actually, Hermione immediately recognized them as Veela. Their skin was extraordinarily pale but it glowed with the silvery blueness of moonlight. Their silver-blond hair reflected the fire like a sheet of smooth, flowing metal. Their eyes were astonishingly blue, like chips from the ocean, and their ruby red lips were even more startling when contrasted with their faces. They were wearing long silvery gowns which looked like they were made from something like mercury. Whatever it was, it clinged to their bodies and was cut in places so provocatively that they were bordering on the edge of decency. Hermione's lips were firmly stuck together, while Ginny was watching them with her mouth frozen in a small o which made her look like a fish.  
  
"My ladies," he said, looking more pleased with himself that anyone Hermione had ever seen, "may I introduce a few...guests."  
  
Slytherin looked at the veela disdainfully. "Really, cousin. I am surprised. I didn't expect that you would have known their names. You never were one to bother with...unimportant details."  
  
Malfoy never stopped grinning, but it turned into a steely grimace. "Of course I remember their names. I gave them to them." The veela women giggled. He turned to Hermione and Ginny, a bit of triumph on his face.  
  
"I don't want to hear them," Slytherin said briskly. "I'm not sure it would be appropriate to give the French names for indecent body parts in front of the ladies."  
  
Malfoy chuckled while one of the veela began stroking his chest. The other started biting his ear slightly. "One day this land will be ruled by the Normans. Then your entire court will use their names when they spend the night with their whore mistresses.."  
  
Slytherin gripped the hilt of his sword lying by his side and made a movement toward him, but stopped when he heard Hermione gasped. His face softened when he looked at her, and he looked away when she saw her face was still red. "I apologize for my cousin's vulgarity."  
  
"You make me sick, Salazar, with your hypocritical righteousness," he said as he sipped some wine from a goblet, the veela on his left stuck a long white finger into it and started licking her finger unabashedly. "You were the one who made them in the first place."

"An experiment gone horribly wrong while I was visiting you in France. That's why I've relocated as many as I could to Bulgaria, where they won't make too much trouble with their wantonness. I wanted to turn them into weapons, not playthings."  
  
"What's wrong if they can be used for both?" Malfoy asked with a gesture of his hand. He was replying more to annoy his cousin rather than to make a point.  
  
Slytherin shook his head and sat down, not looking at the veela, and whenever he accidentally got a glimpse of them, his lip curled in disgust. He suddenly turned his attention to Hermione.  
  
"Rowena," he said, taking her hand, "where is your necklace?"  
  
"Oh," said Hermione nervously, putting her hand on her chest. "I have it.. She took it out of her pocket. She had wanted to keep it hidden and out of attention, but she also wanted to have it with her at all times.  
  
"Why aren't you wearing it? It looks lovely on you." Hermione blushed again. Ginny stared. Hermione hesitatingly put it on. The gold chain and hourglass glinted because of the fire.  
  
"So, Lady Ravenclaw," Malfoy drawled. Apparently it was a genetic trait. "How have you used that...extraordinary thing?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione said, stalling.  
  
He grew a bit impatient. Apparently he didn't like women who asked too many questions. "I mean, where–or should I say _when_–have you gone?"  
  
Ginny could tell from her eyes that Hermione's brain was working fast. "I haven't really used it that much, you know. I'm still working on it."  
  
"So you haven't finished working on it?" Slytherin asked.  
  
"No," Hermione replied quickly.  
  
"So if I were to try to use it, it would not work?" Malfoy asked mischievously.  
  
"No," Hermione replied firmly. She was beginning to hate this journey through time more and more. In her third year she had been so terrified of messing everything up with time travel, and the feeling had increased more and more like a thorn screwing and twisting itself deeper and deeper into her. She didn't want to think of the repercussions of Ginny's little bright idea. But now the danger had reached its apex. The last thing she wanted was an obnoxious Malfoy ancestor messing with the fabric of time. They had enough of them in her own time period. She said to him in a defying tone, "It's enchanted so only I can use it."

"Then you would not mind if I take a look at it, would you?" he asked in a sickly sweet voice. The veela around him looked excited.  
  
Ginny's eyes flashed in warning. Hermione gulped. "Well sir, I don't think--"

"Give me the necklace," he said in a dangerously low voice. His pale eyes had narrowed and his features sharpened.  
  
But in an instant his eyes had gone from narrow to widened in shock. Slytherin had whipped his sword so fast that the girls barely had time to realize what was going on. He was pointing it unwaveringly at Malfoy's throat. "Are you threatening her?"  
  
The veela around Malfoy looked murderous. Hermione saw that their faces had slowly begun elongating and a few feathers were sprouting from their backs. Malfoy looked deadly calm. "Are you going to kill me, _cousin_?" He said impudently. "Wouldn't that be too much for the delicate eyes of your ladies?" He bared his sharp teeth.  
  
Slytherin's eyes were flashing dangerously. Ginny's heart seemed as if it would stop. His countenance was so fierce and full of angry violence that he looked unbearably like Tom, right at the moment when he had gotten out of the diary, full formed, and was seconds away of knocking her out with her own wand. Tears began filling her eyes. She didn't want her father to be like her worst nightmares.  
  
Slytherin looked at the girls, terrified and frozen in their chairs. He lowered his sword but the look never left his face as he continued to glare at Malfoy. Malfoy simply glared back, his own face calm, yet full of loathing, like the instant before a snake would strike. Hermione had lost all nerve and actually went to Slytherin. She took his hand and sat him down next to her. He rubbed her knuckles tenderly and smiled slightly. Ginny's gaze went from fearful to unpleasant. There was enough tension in the room to snap a violin string.  
  
Malfoy got up huffily, and so did the veela women, who had transformed back. "If you'll excuse me, cousin, I think I need to go to bed." He spat out the word cousin as if it were poisonous. "Ladies," he said, his tone a bit lighter, "I am tremendously sorry." Then his eyes strayed curiously to Ginny, and an insane smile lit up his lips. "I assure you I will tend to you both again, very soon. And then you will find me much more...hospitable." He looked maliciously pleased and left the room, the veela holding his arm and looking back at the girls contemptuously. Hermione moved uncomfortably in her seat. Slytherin watched him go, angrily silent. As soon as he left, he began apologizing profusely. The girls assured him it was alright.  
  
Just as he left a house-elf came in, terrified, her knees and ears shaking. She was close to the point of tears. Hermione got up and walked to her, then bent over and whispered, "Your master has gone upstairs. Is there anything we can help you with?" The elf looked even more terrified at being addressed so nicely.  
  
"Th-thank you, M-mistress is too kind," she whimpered. "We is just wanting to know, if Master's k-kinsman and Mistresses would still like anything to d-drink?"  
  
"No," Slytherin replied gruffly, and the elf looked like she was about to faint. "We don't want anything. Go back to your work, elf."  
  
Hermione looked critically at him. "It's alright. You can go back, thank you." She gave the elf a weak smile and it wobbled away, its ears lowered.  
  
Slytherin looked at her curiously, then sternly. "Lowering yourself down to the level of that thing is shameful, Rowena. It's not wise to be indulgent to your slaves. I thought you knew better. You never did anything like that before."  
  
Hermione didn't say anything. She didn't want to explain herself, but she didn't want to apologize either. Slytherin smiled at her. "But I knew my lady is all sweet and tender heart." Hermione looked away, and turned to Ginny, but regretted it. Ginny was seething. She had tried bearing Slytherin's sweetness to her, but she couldn't take it any longer. She was the one who had come all this way, it was all her idea, but there was Hermione again, taking all the praise. All she wanted to do was see her parents. She had much more right to have their attention than Hermione. The words echoed in her head: "not worthy, not worthy, _not worthy_." They had become louder and louder and louder that now they were pounding in her skull. The fury was bubbling in her head and she was barely containing it. Hermione became frightened. She figured Ginny wanted some time alone with him. She was a bit afraid of what might happen, but she was even more terrified of what would happen if she didn't leave. Slytherin had obviously been extremely in love with Rowena Ravenclaw. She didn't want to stay and tempt him further.  
  
"I think I should leave as well," she choked. Slytherin rose up to stop her, but she held out a hand. "I am simply exhausted. I need to lie down for a while. My friend, I am sure, will be delighted to keep you company." Ginny's face brightened.  
  
"But, my dear--"  
  
"No, I insist. I'll be fine. Just need some rest." She gently pulled her hand away from his.  
  
"I'll escort you to your room. I don't trust Malfoy."  
  
Hermione shook her head furiously because of the look on Ginny's face. "No, that's not necessary. I'm clever enough take care of myself." She smiled, "Besides, if something does happen, I have a sure means of escape." She held up the necklace from her neck. Slytherin smiled and sent a house elf to take Hermione to her room. He watched her all the way up the stairs until she disappeared.  
  
Ginny's demeanor changed dramatically–she couldn't be happier. However, an unfortunate consequence of extreme happiness is often a loss of one's senses. Here she was, a thousand years into the past, sitting across from her father, one of the most famous wizards of his age. All Ginny could do was stare at Slytherin with a slight smile curving her lips. She had no idea what to say–or even realized that he was waiting for her to speak first. The mix of terror and excitement was a bit overwhelming.  
  
Slytherin was getting more uncomfortable by the minute, especially with Ginny's intent gaze. He shifted in his seat. "Er, Miss Hufflepuff?"  
  
Ginny didn't realize at first that he was addressing her. "What was that? Oh, right." She turned a bit red. "Sorry, I was just....er... thinking."  
  
He shifted again. "So, er. How long have you known Lady Ravenclaw?" He was trying his best to make conversation.  
  
"Who? Oh yes. I've known Her–Rowena for ages," she said distractedly. She kept on looking at Slytherin.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Uh, my lady?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Do you realize that the way you are looking at me is quite...well...inappropriate?"  
  
Ginny widened her eyes and raised her head away from her arm. "What?" Slytherin continued avoiding her eyes. Ginny was reminded that he was after all the same age as her. And then she realized that he was taking her attention in a completely wrong way. Her patience had finally given out. She couldn't stand it any longer. She deserved to be treated differently, considering her relationship to him. She yearned for it. She absolutely needed it to keep from going mad. She needed to tell him the truth...  
  
..............................

"Ah, at least I know my Head Boy hasn't disappeared," said Dumbledore with relief when he saw Draco making his way through the crowd of students in the entrance to the Great Hall .  
  
"Sir, what's going on?"  
  
"I was about to ask you, Mr. Malfoy. Where is Ginny Weasely?" He asked without pretense, his eyes piercing into Draco's.  
  
"What? How should I know?" Draco, said, exasperated. A few Ravenclaw fifth years gawked at him. Dumbledore took him by the shoulder gently and steered him out of ear shot.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, excuse me. I only assumed that you might know of Miss Weasley's whereabouts, the fact being that you had...spoken with her recently."  
  
"Well, I don't know what happened to her, and I haven't spoken with her. She attacked me."  
  
Dumbledore nodded his head. "Yes, yes. Professor Snape has informed me." He looked up soberly to Draco. "Nevertheless, I think you should know, Mr. Malfoy, that a group of Death Eaters had broken into Gryffindor Tower. I don't know how they had gotten the password, but it was no matter. I detected the breach as soon as it occurred. They had broken into Ginny Weasley's dormitory and the girls of course, screamed, triggering all the other portraits in the castle to scream and putting the castle on alert. The intruders have escaped, unfortunately. However, Ginny Weasley is nowhere to be found."  
  
Draco started panicking. Again, he hated the feeling. "However? Obviously, the Death Eaters must have kidnapped her!"  
  
"I have reason to believe," Dumbledore said, hushing him, "that Ginny disappeared before the castle was breached. Her roommates indicated that they did not see the Death Eaters leave with her. In fact, one of them told me that she saw Miss Weasley leave the room quietly a few hours before. Moreover, they couldn't have escaped with Ginny, because my Animagi- detecting charms have informed me they have entered using an Animagus, and they couldn't have disappeared as quickly as they have with a captive. In fact, there might be a few of them still lurking around."  
  
Draco stood there silent with his mouth slightly open. Dumbledore continued. "Moreover, I cannot find my most responsible student in the entire school, my Head Girl, Miss Granger." Draco did not say anything, although he moved his head back in surprise. Dumbledore said, "My conjecture is, Mr. Malfoy, that they may have gone off somewhere together."  
  
Draco made an indignant noise. "Granger running off with Ginny Weasley? Not likely. She's too much of a Little Miss Per-" he stopped short when he realized Dumbledore was staring at him, amused. This was one of the reasons he hated Dumbledore. He always made you feel like he was chuckling at you to himself because he knew more than you did. With Snape he could rant as much as he pleased.  
  
"Well, I don't have any idea what it's all about. Maybe you should ask Potter and Weasley, not me, Sir."  
  
Dumbledore continued staring at him intently, but then gave a small, weary sigh. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. I expect you to lead all the students into the Great Hall. They will be sleeping there so we can keep an eye on them. Good night." He turned away and as soon as he did Snape came to him. Snape looked at Draco warily as he whispered something into Dumbledore's ear. He left, his eye still wavering on Draco until he disappeared at the corner of the corridor. Draco turned around to begin rounding up the students. He went through the Halls, calling on the Prefects for help.  
After about half an hour, Draco was still lurking around the castle, looking for students. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be found. Then he thought he heard a few lumbering footsteps disappearing behind another corner. He followed them.  
  
"Hey, wait! You guys need to head for the Great Hall, Dumbledore's orders." But the steps continued faster, in the other direction. He began running. "Hey! I'm Head Boy! I'll take off points." He stopped. "Stupid buggers," he muttered. He was about to run after them when a strange feeling made him stop. It had gone eerily quiet. He pricked his ears up, listening. He pulled out his wand.  
  
Suddenly two pairs of large hands grabbed him around the waist and cupped over his mouth. His wand sent sparks into the air and he kicked and bit, only to be powerfully struck on his head. The pain made him reel and he thought he saw blood running over his eyes before he blacked out.  
  
Here are your responses to the reviews of the earlier chapter, in no particular order.  
  
**Amy**: I'm glad my fic has been one of the first you have read. I know the feeling, when you find a new site and then see a fic that you can't stop reading. To know that my story has actually done that to people, wow....  
  
**Rynn**: thank you!! Being called "talented" is very gratifying.  
  
**Sarah**: (ps. like ur email address :)) Thank you thank you!!! Again, I'm soo happy that this fic somehow pulls people in, ur very nice. I will email you and everyone else when this update comes along, as a way of indicating I appreciate my readers.  
  
**Sarah Xemindar**: Hermione and Ginny were really 'Rowena' and 'Helga.' I hope that was clear. Glad you thought it was original. The plot is mainly mine, but this fic has been partly inspired by Cassandra Claire's Draco Trilogy. It is the best piece of HP fanfic you will ever read. Period. PS. A little bit more on Ginny's feelings about Slytherin to come. She's not 'infatuated,' he's her father!!  
  
**Toriisen**: Thanks for asking. I've been writing original stuff ever since I could string two sentences together, but I haven't written anything recently. I have been writing a lot of original poetry these past few months for a creative writing class. If you'd like to see some poems, ask! (I have a few on fictionpress but they're older stuff and I've gotten better (I hope).  
  
**Tessa**: ooh!! One of my readers who read this story a LONG time ago but is still continuing!!! I'm so happy you still read my update, it sends a great message of support, thank you!! I hoped that my writing would not be disappointing, esp. after such a long time. Your little request of showing what's happening to everyone Ginny and Hermione left behind in their own time actually made me thinking....and one thought led to another....and I got a LOT of new ideas about what would happen to Draco. So THANK YOU for giving me the first spark to start the fire. This is why reviews are so important. I love you too!!!  
  
**LeowynEvangolen**: I'm so ecstatic that you couldn't stop reading for a whole day. Good luck with publishing your book (you will tell me if it comes out??) Hope ur other fanfics do well. Yes, I do know about InuYasha, but my fav anime is Cowboy Bebop (Spike reminds me of Sirius!!) Ur lucky, u didn't have to wait as long, but thank u for reading and reviewing anyway!!  
  
**Liquid paper**: (cool name!) Thank you! Mechanical errors like spelling and grammar annoy me a lot when I'm reading other fics, but I don't get too much time to proofread my own story, so if there's any mistakes, sorry. I'm glad u didn't find too many in mine tho. A lot of these are my first drafts. How will Hermione get the love potion?? How indeed, (grins evilly) don't worry the summary isn't a mistake.  
  
**harrysmom**: Thank you! This chapter builds up more suspense.  
  
**Hopeisadelusion**: Thank you for saying such great things. You noticed the difference in style in the last chapter!! Very astute. I wrote it a bit later than the previous chappies, but even then it's pretty earlier than this very new chapter that you're about to read. I'm not sure if there will be any more difference. This chapter serves mainly to get to even more juicier stuff later on. You are really observant, and thank you for the feedback.  
  
**Syaoronsangel**: You have still stuck with this story after soo very long, and it's so incredible. You deserve an award. Yes, I give you the Most Diligent Reader Award. Congrats!! (hehe) Your review is so nice, I don't know what to say. (You have left me just as speechless as u were in the review, lol) I'm so happy you remembered this fic. You will get an email as always when I update!  
  
**Anastasia Ju-Bok**: Yes, your poem was very good, and thank you for reading!! I'm so happy readers like the plot. I was worried that maybe it might be too twisted or people wouldn't buy it, but I', glad it pulls people in. You like the love triangle between Ron/Herm/ and Draco, hehe. Some people just want Draco!! Lol. I don't blame them. It'll get more complicated–maybe even like a love hexagon. Lmao  
  
**KenKao4eva**: Yay!!!! u like the part with Hermione un-freezing Draco. I loved that part too. Yes, I also love only D/Herm, but my darn plot... lol. Don't worry, I'm going to concentrate on D/Herm in later chapters.  
  
**Darkmoon of Shadows:** You are very close observer, and a very good reader. Thank you for appreciating the nuances. I'm soo happy you feel that the characters are true to their selves in the canon. I was really worried about it (but my Ginny is actually a bit more like the 'new' Ginny we see in book 5, more adventurous, daring.) Sub-plots are what make a story intriguing and complex. Yes, thank you for the advice on more detail. Writing poetry has made me appreciate that the details make all the difference. Thanks a lot and I really hope you like the rest of the story. Keep reviewing!!  
  
**Stef**: oooh I have such clever readers. I think others have already guessed too by now. I will keep updating mainly because I have such awesome readers.  
  
**PirateRouge:** I know, I know. I hate delaying the d/herm parts. But the wait is nearly over!! Trust me, it'll be GREAT.  
  
**MajorFanFic**: thank you for reading and reviewing!!!(and being so excited!!)  
  
**Polar Thestral**: First, I'd like to THANK YOU for letting this story be on your site, which is a great site for fics, really. You wrote such nice stuff about it in the rec area, I was soo delighted. You made me feel important, lol. I read a few of the NC-17 ones on the site, some were awesome, some were just...wrong. (But in a guilty pleasure kinda way). Ilove the names for all the ships, I didn't know them. Guns and Handcuffs for D/ Harry and Leather and Libraries for D/Herm are my favorite ship names, so classic!!

You are also one of those wonderful readers who have stuck with this story. I am SO UNBELIEVABLY grateful for that. You deserve my next award: Best Reader Award!!! haha. I only have invisible trophies tho, sorry. I love the way you described my chapter, thank you so much. No, I haven't left fandom. I was very close to doing so, but readers like you have kept me going. Your own fic is awesome, even tho u have only a few chapters up. But I can tell it will be marvelous.

Ginny's reaction to Hermione and Slytherin is in this chapter. If Slytherin tried seducing her instead it would make for some really interesting stuff (I have a friend who wrote a great paper on incest in romantic lit, so ya, good stuff, lol) but it didn't go with the plot. But I also think that's what makes the Herm/ Sirius fics intriguing, cause he's an older, father figure. I'm sparkling with delight about ur own fics!! And for the site!! Thank you!!! PS. I will put in quotes from Silverchair for upcoming chappies. I didn't want to at first because I thought people might not know them, but now I have a fellow fan!! (squeals!!!) Who else has a song with my name in it??? (I know it doesn't really mean Ana but whatever lol) keep writing and thank you for the support!!  
  
**Kittyofwonder**: yay!! Poetic is what I want! PS I'll try to read ur story too, altho I don't rad Harry/Herm (but my fave fic of all time had that ship!)  
  
**Savvy2515:** Draco and Ginny can have a lot of interesting stuff when their paired. There are a lot of diff ships in this story, so not too many will be disappointed (but I don't do slash). Ron and Hermione are very cute together. Ron is such a clueless git in the books, but in a very endearing and cute way. I thought the fifth book would have given us more clues about their relationship. Maybe they're hiding it!!! sorry, im rambling. Thank you for reviewing!!


	17. The Weakness of Breaking Souls

A/N: Hello!! Another update!! Sorry, I really, really wish I could finish sooner, but I am taking summer classes, which means I must do enough work for 4 months in only about 6 weeks!!! ahhh!! Papers due every day, sigh. Stupid teachers are the ones getting to read my genius writing, lol. Anyways, I managed to finish this chappy. Hopefully you'll get a few answers as to what's going on.  
  
By the way, what do you guys think of the title of the sixth book recently announced on JK's website? I have a feeling the half-blood prince refers to either Salazar or Gryffindor, mainly cause she said Chamber of Secrets has a link to the sixth book. Gasp! Maybe my plot is actually on the right track!! P.S. Just saw the movie the Notebook–Ryan Gosling would make an absolutely delicious Draco, no? He's got the perfect face–and ahem, everything else–for it.

Responses to all those who reviewed:  
  
**WinterTwilight**: Thank you for the great compliments. Nothing is better to hear than the fact that my story is well-made and entertaining.  
  
**Heikaru**: 3 or is it 4? reviews all at once!! Yay!! Didn't know where Crookshanks name came from! Interesting...But I do know some others: Durmstrang, for instance. In Goethe's version of Faust, the main character (who sells his soul to the devil!) Follows a school of theories called Sturm and Drang–they involve dark magic. Crookshanks, is actually, a kneazle, now that JK mentioned it in her site. (Check out Fantastic Beasts..) Draco and Ginny...fire and ice....it is quite an intriguing couple. The ships in this story will get better and better, TRUST me.  
  
Yes, I saw the third HP movie but I have thought of the entire plot line months and months (maybe a year) in advance. I actually know some about the physics of time traveling–yes it IS physically possible! But only going in the future, the past is a bit tricky. Yes, I'm glad a lot of readers remembered the clues in Slytherin's journals and the paintings. More about that coming up...Yes, you are smart!! Lol  
  
As for the predictions you made about how Hermione will get a love potion...um...won't say. It will be original (dunno if u'll cry, but...lol). Don't steal the best author's award!! I can get it myself, hehe. Thank u!!!!  
  
**Arduriel Celebel Arangua**: What does ur name mean? It sounds beautiful tho. :) I am writing!!! As if my life depended on it!! If you are one of my original readers, thank you SOO much for still reading. I know, suspense is a technique I love–but u will find out more in this chapter!  
  
**Addie**: Thank u for saying my idea is original. I love hearing that. Originality is so incredibly hard to achieve nowadays. So I actually don't believe you. lol. just kidding. Thank u for reading and reviewing!!  
  
**Holly Fishin 4 Felton**: about ur name...it made me wonder what a date with Tom Felton be like? He loves fishing, but I think more than fishing would be going on...hehe. I wonder who stole his fishing rods? Bet if he looked on ebay, he'd find them, lol. Thank you for noticing the details about the books earlier. And when you said u respected the fact that I kept on writing....that's just such an indescribably nice thing to say. I love you!! Hehe.  
  
**Regina-terrae**: Thank u!! Reviews, even small ones, make a big difference!!  
  
**BigHarryFan**: Yes, I am too. Lol. Again, the details about Rowena being in 2 places at once will all come together in this chapter. Don't worry, there is no mistake. I'm sorry the potion part is taking a bit long to get to. But a lot of worthwhile things had to happen first. Plot!!! all about story!! The wait for it is diminishing, I promise.  
  
**Darkmoon of Shadows**: Another great review filled with intelligent comments. The mistakes (which I was mortified in finding) have been corrected (the format of the site is partly to blame, tho. Somehow my line divisions just disappeared!!) I hated myself for those mistakes, grrr.  
  
You grasp character amazingly well. I'm glad you appreciate everyone's nuances. Everyone is exactly how I wanted them to come off according to your descriptions. It made me soo happy!! I am working hard to get these updates done, I don't want to disappoint great readers like you! Thinking of details has taken my mind in some interesting places....  
  
**Tessa:** The best fanfic ever written is Cassandra Claire's Draco Trilogy. You can find it on if it's still there. Beware, it is exhaustively long and dangerously addictive. (Took me about a month to finish it all, I think). You might find a few similarities in my fic with hers. It was inspired by her writing. I hope you like the update. Oh, and the scene in this chapter with Draco in it was inspired by the tiny comment you wrote about those back in the present time. My mind goes to some scary places...Alas, sometimes humanly possible still isn't soon enough for updates.  
  
**Polar Thestral**: A wonderful and very long (the longer the better!) review. All mistakes have been corrected. Thank you incredibly for pointing them out. I was horrified when I saw them!! Bad Ana, bad, bad, bad!! (Ana's my name, for those reading this, lol).  
  
Do not grovel!! I'm really quite stupid sometimes, believe me. Lol. I love it that you like Slytherin. You see a bit more of his nice side here, but....shuts up. I agree, maybe I should have made him point his wand, but I thought if he did then Malfoy would use his–a muggle instrument would unnerve him more, I thought. Plus, I'm saving the wands for later, hehe....You characterize Ginny very well. Ah! She irritates you?? Sorry. But that's how she's developing. But it's not her to some degree, it's also the new powers she's received a la Draco. But when you said she was real....ahhh bliss. I want to make characters "real," not just repeating everything we already knew about them from Rowling's book. Yes, we know Ginny likes Harry. Yes, we know Draco is a spoiled git. Yes, we know Ron is a bit naive and self-conscious, Yes, we know Hermione is obsessively studious and clever, but what else? What I've learned from school this year is that characters shouldn't be perfect or easy to understand.  
  
I saw the poster on the site!! Oohh!!!! I was ecstatic!!! The girl who plays Ginny in the movie does not exactly match my idea of how Ginny looks like, but it's still very well done. My story feels very glamourized, lol. I have to remember to keep reading your own awesome fic (insanely busy these few weeks..)  
  
**KenKao4eva**: Yes, my cliffhangers should be banned, they are quite evil. Thank you for ur enthusiastic comments!! You won't be disappointed.  
  
**Badger**: Your comments will be taken quite gladly. I love it that you actually bookmarked my story and are checking for updates! I email those who leave their address so u won't have to constantly hunt for my story (my lil service as a tribute to my readers). I really hope you get a notice for this update.  
  
**Anastasia Ju-Bok**: Yes, any love in any, uh, polynomial shape, lol (havent forgot math!! Who said english majors cant do math!!) involving Draco automatically makes it all the more juicy. I love it that people noticed about the veelas. Hehe. Malfoys are more naughty thank u think....  
  
**SyaoronsAngel**: The Malfoy in the past is Draco's ancestor from about a thousand years back. He's one of the few French lords right before the Normans conquered England (so his prediction actually comes true according to history). Did I review your story? Have u updated it? I think I read it. If not, let me know. Hermione and Ginny are NOT the real Helga and Rowena. But Slytherin thinks they are. Thank u for reading for so long!!  
  
Huge sigh. Ok, that's it, I think. If I missed you or gave a wrong response, or gave it in front of someone else's name, please let me know. Sorry if you had to scroll down for a long time–but I just love my readers and want them all to get responses.  
  
In this chappie: Who does Hermione meet in her room? What's happening with Draco? What does Ginny tell Slytherin?? Will Malfoy do anything to our lovely ladies? All this and much much more...(stops speaking in cheesy loud commercial voice, lol).  
  
_And when a soul breaks,  
The devil is its lover.  
And triumph and folly are in the mix  
when a soul breaks.  
  
But there's no outward  
sign at first–  
until a voodoo tune gets debuted,  
and the ruler raises his fees,  
and accidents crush philosophies,  
and souls break.  
_ Michael Collins, _Six Sketches:  
When a Soul Breaks_  
  
**Chapter Seventeen: The Weakness of Breaking Sou**ls  
  
Hermione took in a deep breath before she opened the door to her bedroom. The whole journey up the stairs seemed like it took ages; she had been turning her head about sharply towards the slightest noise, but of course, she never saw anything. What had made her feel even more nervous was the dodgy way the elf had been acting. Her big green eyes were shifting this way and that, her ears were quivering up and down, and she was barely able to squeak out a single line to her, when they had reached the door. "Your room, my lady."  
  
Hermione opened the door, and the presence of somebody else already inside it did not surprise her. She saw the shadows against the floor extending through the light from the fireplace. She clutched the necklace around her neck.  
  
...................................................  
  
Slytherin finally forced himself to speak. "I'm not sure if you realized, my lady, that you have never stopped looking at me ever since we met? I beg your pardon if I seem forward, but it has made me uncomfortable."  
  
Ginny opened her mouth in uneasy surprise. "I'm...I"m sorry." She let out a breath, as if finally coming to a decision. "Uh, Lord Slytherin, is it?"  
  
He nodded and beamed proudly. She stuck her slips together, not knowing exactly how to formulate what she as about to say next. "Uh, sir, there is something I have to confess."  
  
His smile disappeared. "Before you say anything, my lady, I have to tell you...As a knight I have sworn my heart to Lady Ravenclaw." He blushed a bit and looked away as he spoke. "I'm afraid that is unlikely to change."  
  
Ginny completely forgot what she was about to say and replied in a bitter tone, "But does she love you back?"  
  
Slytherin answered, a bit sadly, "My dear lady has been pitiful to me, I suppose. But she has not made any direct efforts to reciprocate."Then he added hastily, and hopefully, "But that does not mean she does not look upon me favorably." He looked down. "I'm afraid it is the fashion nowadays for ladies to constantly deny happiness to those who have sworn love and life to their service." He looked up. "But I do not despair. A lady of her position has a lot at stake in such an important choice. And I'm afraid her parents seem to have chosen...somebody else as suitable for her."  
  
Ginny's face softened. She remembered everything she had found over the past few days about her real parents. How Rowena had gone off with Gryffindor, leaving Slytherin so angry that he had seduced Helga Hufflepuff solely for revenge. She put her fingers gently on Slytherin's hand, and said to him, "But at the end she is the one who chooses. I hope you remember that."  
  
He nodded. But then, realizing she had put her hand on his, he quickly snatched it away from her grasp. Ginny's eyes filled with tears and her face reddened. Damn Hermione. Why did she change the color of her eyes? Her father might have had reacted differently to her. But no matter...  
  
She tried again. "I still need to tell you something. And I swear to you that it is the truth." Slytherin looked at her with a mix of curiosity and hopelessness–the look made him seem different, more approachable.  
  
Ginny gave out another exhale of breath, pursed her lips, and then finally said, "I'm not really Helga Hufflepuff." She took out her wand and with a brief flash of light, changed her eye color back to normal.  
  
Slytherin's dark eyes widened. For a few moments, he stared at here without saying anything. Finally, he asked, "But why did Rowena lie to me?"  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes, exasperated. She figured that if she told him who 'Rowena' really was he'd either kick them out or they'd be seeing the sharper edge of his sword. So instead, she said, "Well, she wanted to have some time to tell you herself." Actually, Ginny was pretty sure Hermione never had any intentions of telling him who she was. Hermione wanted to deny her everything she wanted, just like everyone else. But she didn't care. She wasn't going to let anyone tell her what to do anymore. She looked at Slytherin. "But I cannot bear not having you know. Not for a single moment longer."  
  
For the first time since she had arrived, Slytherin was finally staring at Ginny. But the effect was not what Ginny had hoped–it made her feel nervous, guilty, and strangely enough, frightened, all at the same time. He stared deeply, fiercely, hungrily. It was her eyes. As soon as she had changed them his whole countenance changed. He knew that there was something vital behind the color of those eyes...so eerily familiar.  
  
"The truth is...Rowena has been doing some time traveling."  
  
He took in a slight breath. "And so... you come from a different time?"  
  
Ginny looked down. An enormous lump was forming in her throat and she felt her eyes sting. The pressure in her chest was mounting. But she would not cry. Not in front of him.  
  
She replied firmly, although her voice was a bit hoarse. "Actually I was born not a long time from now. Maybe in about twenty years or so."  
  
A look of slight comprehension came across his face, like light moving across a window at dawn. Ginny continued, unable to take his stare. "But in reality I have lived my entire life in the distant future. I was taken as an infant, using Rowena's Time Turner, to about a thousand years from now." She finally looked up. The tears had taken over: they were streaming down her cheeks. "But finally, after all this time, I have come back to you."  
Slytherin opened his mouth in realization. The tears had made her eyes glossy, a beautiful sheen coming over them, mixing sadness into their dark depths. His own mother had eyes exactly like that when she had passed away the year before, during the plague. She had caught it from her half- blood hand maiden. Her eyes had glistened like that when she had said that one day they would see each other again. At that moment, exactly a year ago, he had thought that if he ever had a daughter, he would desperately want her to have those very eyes.  
  
Ginny was staring at his face, unable to understand if he had figured it all or not. But she nodded, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and said, her voice breaking. "Yes, it's true. My name is Ginevra Slytherin, and I am your daughter."  
  
He gulped and in an instant had enveloped her in his arms. He did not need any proof. She broke down completely and started sobbing into his shoulder. He gripped her tightly, one arm around her shoulders and with his other hand, tangled his fingers into her hair.  
  
............................................................  
  
Hermione paused and blinked at the very last thing that she had expected would be waiting for her in her room.  
  
Sitting on a raised stool from across her bed was a goblin, facing a large canvas. A large grin twisted his marble-colored face when he saw her. He hopped off the stool, scurried to her, and gave a bow so low that his long pointy nose touched the floor.  
  
"My lady. My name is Basil Gray and I have been commissioned by Master Malfoy to create your portrait."  
  
Hermione did not move; it was all quite suspicious. "I thought they made portraits of witches and wizards only after they have died."  
  
His eyes flashed, but in an instant they returned to their normal, obsequious expression . "My lady is correct, but not completely. In extraordinary circumstances we paint the portraits of those persons who have made such an enormous contribution to wizarding existence, that it would be invaluable to capture their likeness during their moment of inspired triumph. Therefore, to commemorate your monumental achievement, the invention of a time-travel device," he eyed her necklace, "my master has ordered me to paint your portrait. Now if my lady would be so kind..." he motioned for her to sit in a large velvet chair in front of the fireplace.  
  
Hermione paused to consider. Then something struck her–the picture in the book! The portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw, whose dates and location contradicted with Rowena's known whereabouts...Rowena Ravenclaw was probably in Norway at the time, but that did not mean a portrait could not have been taken of her, because here she was, in the exact same place and location as the portrait had indicated. It then dawned on her that she had to sit in for this portrait. It was like Harry saving himself from the dementors in their third year. History had already shown she would do it, even though she hadn't done it yet. If she wouldn't...well, her head hurt thinking about it.  
  
"Alright, I suppose I should allow it," she gave a nervous smile, "for Master Malfoy's immense consideration toward me." The goblin did not catch the sarcasm, as he went straight to his work. In the meantime, Hermione was searching her brain, making her thoughts flow like sand through a time turner, trying to find some spell involving painting portraits...she knew it was some sort of trap. But she had no choice.  
  
She sat on the chair and tried her best to smile. Only one thought comforted her: It's alright, at least you already know how you'll turn out...  
  
........................................................  
  
Ginny ripped herself away from Slytherin's embrace. She hated herself. How could she show such weakness in front of him? He was looking at her with concern. At least he was humoring her, not yelling at her or accusing her of being a liar. If he had done that, she didn't know what she would have done.  
  
"My dear, what is the matter? Come here. There's...so much I still need to ask you. What you have said is incredible, to be sure. But I do not doubt you, please believe me."  
  
Ginny calmed down a bit and sat next to him. This time he reached for her hand. She sighed wearily. "What do you want to ask?"  
  
"Who is your mother?"  
  
Ginny's heart stopped. She hadn't been ready to face that. She was already playing dangerously with time as it was. She replied in a low, terrified whisper. "I...I dare not say."  
  
Slytherin was looking at her as if he could extract the answer from her eyes. When he saw it was no use, he began stroking a tendril of her bright red hair. He looked away thoughtfully. "No matter. I will find out for certain very soon." Ginny's words echoed in his head: She is the one who chooses.  
  
"Anything else that perhaps I can be able to answer?"  
  
"Well...let me gather my thoughts a bit. I mean, right now, you are near my age, are you not? So it is a bit difficult to see you as...But it does not matter. At least I can see you now." He paused. "But you are not even been born yet." He stared at her, caressing a finger on her cheek. "What a wondrous world...."  
  
Ginny looked away. Slytherin asked, his own voice faltering, "Will this...will this be the only time I see you?"

Tears again. Damn. "Perhaps. I have no memory of you. I was taken as an infant."  
  
Slytherin's reply, however, startled her in its harshness. "Who did this? Who took you from me? Tell me."  
  
Ginny's mouth opened in horror. He was probably planning murder right then. "I was not taken against your will. Your...your future heir took me. You thought it was the best possible way to keep me safe."  
  
Slytherin slumped back in his chair. "So that is how powerful my enemies will become.." Ginny stared at him. It was like viewing a grand castle breaking down.  
  
Ginny put her arms around him. His lips curved slightly upwards. He stared at her again, trailing his fingers where her tears had streamed–from her eyes onto her cheeks and down until her throat.  
  
Ginny looked down, although she did not want to move her face away from his touch. "Now you're giving me a bit of what I deserve, showing me how uncomfortable it is to be stared at so intensely."  
  
"I only wanted to be able to memorize your face."  
  
..........................................................  
  
Draco woke up, his head pounding. He thought opening his eyes would have helped to figure out where he was, but no. He was surrounded by nearly complete darkness. The floor was hard and rough, and he felt grass. The only light came from a circular glow at the tip of a wand, presumably. Draco felt a tall figure standing in front of him–he could tell by the slight sound of swishing robes and the crunch of grass under heavy boots.  
  
He wondered if moving was a good idea. He was positive they would have taken his wand. But he had no choice. He could just lie there until they decide to do whatever it is they want to do with him, or he could...  
  
He suddenly kicked the shin of the man guarding him and snatched his wand as his grip loosened from it. He felt a second agonizing kick in his stomach but he managed to croak out a spell potent enough to hold him back. He felt a second blow to his head and he fell again to the floor. He felt warm blood on his forehead. He felt hands roughly grabbing him but he twisted them away, kicking and punching whatever he could indiscriminately. He dodges several flashes of light that briefly illuminated his surroundings for choppy instances. He felt one spell slash across his leg, searing his pants and burning his skin. He growled in pain but didn't stop. He needed a wand, if only he could snatch one.  
  
Suddenly, the half dozen full-grown men he was struggling against all let go of him. They were encircling him, and about six or seven glowing wand tips pointed warily at him. The light from the wands showed that they all had their heads covered by their black cloaks. Draco's chest was heaving, he could taste blood in his mouth, and he could barely open one eye, it was so bruised. He felt like a wounded, surrounded animal being hunted down.  
  
One of them, the one standing right in front of him, spoke. It was a familiar voice. "Woke up earlier than we expected. And he put up a decent fight. Not bad for a fledgling."  
  
Draco's breathing did not calm down. He swept the hair from his eyes and stared brazenly back at him. He knew the man underneath the cloak. His father had invited him countless times to dinner. His own son would sometimes chat with him at their house. But at school he was always a bloody loner, that Theodore Nott.  
  
"What do you want from me?" He gasped.  
  
"Where is the girl?" Nott demanded. His patronizing tone vanished.  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"The hell you don't," he said, right before snarling, "_Crucio_!"  
  
The pain, all too familiar, ran throughout his entire body, wracking his nerves. Draco clenched himself and leaned downwards. He gnashed his teeth together but did not scream. He would not be weak.  
  
The pain stopped, he got up. His eyes were widened–it seemed as if the spell had merely made him more livid, more alert, more dangerous.  
  
Although he could not see his face from his hood, Draco could almost tell Nott was smiling. "I expected this. Lucius was always the foremost expert on torture. If he hadn't prepared his son it would have been almost...disappointing." He heard a soft laugh. "Now, I will ask again...where is the girl?"  
  
"I said, I don't know," he said with clenched teeth. "Besides, you said it yourself. My father is one of you. Why wouldn't I tell you where she is?"  
  
His amused tone vanished yet again. "Your father serves the Dark Lord only when he sees it convenient for him to do so. When he lost his powers sixteen years ago, your father did not hesitate to publicly renounce us. We all have our eyes on him–and you, boy."  
  
A flash of utter contempt seared through him. "You have no idea about my father. You will be supremely sorry about this when he finds out. And all for nothing, because I can't give you any information."  
  
Surprisingly, Nott relaxed a bit. "Well, I suppose it is even better this way." He turned his head towards the other Death-Eaters around him, and said, as if he were inviting them into his house for a drink, "Gentlemen."  
  
Seven voices immediately cried out, "_Cruci_o!" and before Draco could move, seven beams of light hit him, all causing indescribable agony. He crumpled to the floor and was screaming this time, he could do nothing but scream. All thoughts had vanished and the pain invaded every particle of his mind. He wanted to bash his head in, to make it stop. He knew he would go mad in a few seconds. He wanted it all to end, he wished they would kill him--he longed for it.  
  
They raised their hands, but Draco still felt like an aching, throbbing lump. He couldn't move–he was shaking madly. His face was covered in sweat and he was deathly pale. He felt the sting of cut marks where his fingernails had scratched his own face. He was sputtering and it felt like his entire self--body and brain–had been cruelly ravaged.  
  
With a massive effort, he propped up his arms and raised his head, and he coughed up blood, dark and shining, onto the grass. He felt like he was about to collapse.  
  
"Now, I don't think you'll be so stupid as to make us do that again. Where is the girl? We know you know–you were the one who gave her powers. Your father has been gloating about it for hours. And yet, when the Dark Lord has commanded that we find her, we cannot find him."  
  
They stood menacingly above Draco, still spitting up the remains of the blood in his mouth. He was barely able to breathe. However, the thought that his father had been proud, proud of him, gave him strength enough to gasp, in between breaths, "I...I...don't....know, I ...swear."  
  
The men raised their wands yet again, and Draco shut his eyes, thinking that this would be the last scene he would ever witness, lying in dark, in the grass, throbbing in anguish, completely broken.  
  
Suddenly a high voice pierced through them all like a steel arrow. "Enough."  
  
They all turned like one unit towards two cloaked figures. One of them lifted his hood and revealed the awful, pale white face he never wanted to see again. The Death Eaters immediately scrambled to him and bowed down, kissing his robes subserviently. The figure standing next to Voldemort remained still, but as he raised his head, Draco saw the long platinum hair and a contemptuous sneer that was all too familiar.  
  
"F-fa" but the figure had already went to him and raised him from the floor. He touched the wounds on his face with a gloved hand. He said nothing, but Draco could sense a rage in his silence.  
  
"My Lord," said one of the groveling Death Eaters, "this boy refuses to give us any information about Slytherin's daughter. Obviously he is involved--"  
"I said, that is enough, McNair." he said, irritated. "I will find out for myself what he is involved in." He slowly walked toward Draco. Lucius, who had been kneeling, stood up, not looking at him. Voldemort raised his wand.  
  
Draco felt as if an invisible thread had been tied around his shoulders, and he rose up until he was floating a few inches above the ground, standing upright.  
  
"Now, boy. Do you know where Salazar Slytherin's daughter is? And let me warn you, the Dark Lord always knows when someone is lying."  
  
Draco stared courageously at his face, straight into those slit-like, blood red eyes. Slowly, he shook his head. He thought he heard an intake of breath from his father  
  
Voldemort stared back at him for a couple of seconds, then let him fall abruptly to the floor. He said briefly and conclusively, "The boy is telling the truth."  
  
........................................................  
  
"How does my Lady like her portrait?" the goblin said sycophantically. "You are a paragon of beauty, of course. I hope my rude arts have not besmirched your lovely features too much."  
  
Hermione stared into the portrait, stared at what were supposed to be her own eyes. But she did not believe that was what she looked like. No, the woman staring back at her was obviously too beautiful to be her. Her hair, her skin, her eyes, the lines of her face, they were all perfect. She turned her head around and gazed instead into the mirror. She touched her own face in mild surprise. The painting was actually quite accurate. It looked exactly like her. But since when did she get so attractive?" She did not recognize the elegant woman she was looking at. The color of her hair and eyes were the same, but there was something foreign, and even sinister about it all.  
  
She cleared her throat. "It's...It's wonderful. Thank you."  
  
The goblin smiled proudly and gave another low bow before he gathered his paint brushes and supplies and scurried out of the room. The twisted grin never left his face. Hermione was left alone, sitting on the bed and sighing.  
  
........................................  
  
"Did you do it?" came a silky voice. His face was covered in shadows and he was clutching a drink in his hand.  
  
"Yes, my lord," said the goblin. "She agreed quite willingly."  
  
"Good. I was actually expecting her not to, but this makes it all the more easy. I guess Slytherin's dear lady is not as clever as he always boasts her to be."  
  
The goblin chuckled. "It is always good to see you, my lord. You haven't asked for my services in a long time."  
  
"Because, Gray, there was nobody worthwhile. But this one is different. She has the precious power of time in her dainty little hands. And after she drinks this potion, she will give her heart–and all her powers–to me." He motioned to a goblet on the small table near him.  
  
The goblin looked at the goblet and smiled. "What about your cousin?"  
  
"I don't care about offending him any more. I am the ruler of this land and he has impudently taken advantage of my leniency towards him. This will be the ultimate revenge–the loss of his beloved lady. He will not only lose her physically, but he will lose her love as well, and all to me." He smirked maliciously. It will be just the thing to put him in his place."  
  
"Will it?"  
  
His eyes were practically laughing with glee. "Yes. If he does not abide by my commands, then I am afraid his poor lady will end up as a cold figure lying flat on a canvas for all eternity."  
  
................................................


	18. Disruptions

Hi!! I have reposted this chapter with replies to all of ur reviews. Sorry the replies came a bit late, I was banned from the comp because we were remodeling. Anyways, u'll find the replies to the reviews of the last chapter at the bottom of this chapter. For all those who have already reviewed this chapter, Thank u!! Ill post individual replies to those reviews next time I update. (Which I am working on, but I might update my other story first).

**A/N**: Hi everyone!! After another horrible delay I have finally updated my story!! True, sometimes it takes me a long time to get through a chapter, but that doesn't mean I have decisively stopped working!! The past month and a half I had to get through final projects and term papers and I just had to use most of my time on school. After that I went on vacation!! And finally, delays came because (looks sheepishly) I'm a big sports fan and I couldn't miss the Olympics or the US Open (I love tennis!! Hewitt's in the Final for any of u Aussie fans). But the next chapter is finally here!! In the interest of getting this chapter up more quickly, I will post the answers to past reviews a lil bit later. If you review the new chapter by then, I will answer both reviews, don't worry!! But I have to give a special thanks to Polar Thestral, otherwise known as B The banner looks awesome!! Thank you so much for having me on your wonderful site. Even more thanks for the exhaustive and insightful reviews which keep me excited about writing.

Thanks to anyone and everyone reading this story, especially if you take the few moments to review. It makes me feel so incredible every time I get a review. Thank you!! If you want me to return the favor and read any of ur own stories, let me know!!

In this chapter: Some more answers to what exactly Malfoy's plot involves (the one in the past, that is), we get another perspective of Slytherin, and finally(!!!) some snogging! Hehe. Oh, and one more teeny development: somebody drinks a potion. ::Shifts eyes and tries to look innocent::

_Do I dare _

_Disturb the universe?_

_In a minute there is time_

_For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse._

T.S. Eliot

_The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_

**Chapter Eighteen: Disruptions**

Harry and Ron made their way towards the nearly deserted corridors to the Great Hall. Ron's face was pale and he kept on making anxious movements with his hands. The freckles on his face seemed to be twitching. Throughout all this, Harry had remained stubbornly silent, deliberately avoiding Ron's gaze.

"Harry, what if something happens to them? Why would they just run off like that? What the hell could they be doing?"

Harry's mouth had clamped shut. He felt as if not talking about it would prove that it never happened.

Ron looked at him, made a frustrated noise, and suddenly stopped walking. Grudgingly, Harry halted as well.

"What is it, Ron? Do you think we should escape from the castle and try to find them? We just talked to Dumbledore. You heard him, not even he knows where they could be. They're nowhere to be found on the Marauder's Map. We have no leads. What can we do?"

Ron's face hardened. "You know just as well as I do what they've probably done. You know how they probably could have escaped. It's not where they are, but _when_."

"Ron..." Harry said in a threatening voice.

"Why did you tell me not to tell Dumbledore about it?"

"Because, there's no point. They'll be back."

Ron was becoming slightly hysterical. "How can you be so damn confident they'll come back?"

"They will. Hermione's with her. She managed to save Sirius, and she was four years younger." Ron gaped in protest. "But she was you at the time. Now she's with Ginny."

Harry gave quite an uncharacteristically calm whisper which even had a hint of slyness to it. "Don't you the girl you love?"

Ron wasn't listening to a word he was saying. "Harry! What's wrong with you? Why don't you want Dumbledore to know about Hermione's Time-Turner? When it could help save them?"

"Will you pipe down? "Harry hissed. He looked wildly around for people listening. He continued, lowering his voice, "Because, as soon as he knows about it, he'll try to take it away from us."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Us? What do you mean by _us_?"

"Ron!" Harry whispered, exasperated. "We have a fully functional Time-Turner on our hands! Don't you know what that means?"

"It means that my sister and my girlfriend are off disturbing the fabric of our existence! And knowing Hermione, she probably didn't go willingly." He leaned in closer to Harry and grabbed his shoulders. His voice began to break. "We don't know what Ginny might do."

Harry let out a deep breath and said, with slow determination, "No, we can't tell Dumbledore. We. Just. Can't."

Ron's face turned unbecomingly cold, it's lines hardening with controlled anger. "What could possibly be important enough to risk their lives?"

Harry pursed his lips–his Adam's apple was quivering. "I can't believe that you don't get it. It has to do with _everything_."

Ginny sighed as the house-elf began unclasping her dress from behind. When it was finished, she waved it off distractedly and it obeyed, a bit frightened. She blew out the candles, washing the entire bedroom in the soft blue moonlight. She let her hair down and slipped off the dress and stood in front of the mirror in the white gown which served as an undergarment. Her bare arms and collarbone stood out softly against the brightness of the white silk, contrasted even more against the rich darkness of her hair. However, she thought that she simply looked a lot more calm than she felt. A few minutes ago, she had been in the arms of her father. Meeting him had been indescribable. He was not the disgustingly evil, cold-  
hearted man that she had always thought he was when she heard the name 'Slytherin'. He had been caring. He had been tender. Most of all, he was capable of feeling–he felt deeply for Rowena, for his own future, and most of all, for _her._

However, as soon as the happy, proud thoughts of her father welled up inside of her, they horribly subsided; she remembered that everything she would ever find out about her parents would always be no better than bittersweet; she knew that the more she discovered, the more she would discover how much she had been denied–how much her life had unjustifiably changed, against her will. She stared back at the red-haired young woman in the mirror: she couldn't bear the fact that she didn't even know who the person was in the reflection.

A wave of confusing emotion overwhelmed her. Suddenly she felt as if the last thing she wanted was to be alone at that moment. She needed someone to talk to. Part of her yearned to go back to Slytherin, whose presence seemed to comfort her a bit, even the mere thought of him. But she had just talked with him. It would be pretty idiotic just to go up to him again right after she had gone to bed, like a toddler scared of facing the night. No, that would be quite ridiculous. Maybe she could go to Hermione.

Then it dawned on her in a flash. Slytherin had mentioned something about finally knowing if Lady Ravenclaw loved him. He had gone to Hermione! Suddenly Ginny felt it hard to breathe, and emotions that were startlingly–familiar–ran through her. For an instant she felt like her old self again–self-conscious at her mistakes, but most of all, worried about someone besides herself. She cursed herself. Her father might be asking Hermione some fatal questions right at this moment–questions whose answers the future possibly depended on. She remembered; she remembered what it felt like, the panicky rush when someone she cared about was in danger. She had felt it over and over again every year when Harry would be involved in some dangerous situation. She remembered her fourth year, when Harry had dashed off to save Sirius, and of course Ron would go with him. Only she had realized what their blind heroism could not–that there was somehow strength in numbers and that if she and the others had gone with them, they might be some help. That year she had refused to stand aside and ignore the worry eating her from the inside. But now, she had changed, changed to the extent that the worry for others had completely disappeared; what was she turning into? But the worry reappeared suddenly, now even more agonizing with her own guilt added on top of it. Strangely, however, the re-emergence of the feeling made her partly glad. At least it was something familiar, something she was used to amid the dark pit inside of her that had so far only been deepening.

She grabbed a robe and a torch which she lit it with her wand, and flew out of the door.

Hermione stared at the goblet. Seconds ago, a house elf had entered her room and placed the goblet on the table next to her bed. "Master's kinsman, Master Slytherin, is sending this for the lady," the elf had squeaked, "He is saying it will help her sleep." After that, the elf left quietly, glancing back at Hermione a few times.

Hermione blew out the candle in her room with a sigh. She stood in the dark. She glanced at her bed, hardly being able to see it, it was so covered in shadows. For some reason, she didn't want to go lie in that bed that night. She had endured enough. 'That's it,' she thought, 'I'm going to get Ginny and get out of here.' Time traveling had been nothing but a horribly uncomfortable experience. A chilly breeze came from her window, freezing her open calves and her neck. Her wispy nightgown did not do better against the parts it did cover. She pulled out her wand to light the candle yet again, to look for some clothes.

But she turned suddenly when the door opened with a creak. She held her breath and was glad that her wand was still in her hand.

"It is I, my lady. Don't be afraid," came the familiar deep voice. A tall cloaked figure entered. When he took off his hood, she saw his hair, even blacker in the dark, the utmost edges tinted silver from the moonlight. Hermione moved to turn on the candle but he held up his hand in protest.

"We don't want anyone to know you're awake," he whispered. He took her hand and led her to her bed, and immediately panic struck her. Did Slytherin frequently visit Ravenclaw in the dead of night in the darkness of her bedroom? Was Lady Ravenclaw's public refusals merely a method to cover up some illicit affair? He was holding her hand with such unapologetic comfort and determination, as if he were completely used to the situation, and he did not seem to mind that her nightgown bared on the edge of decency. She was torn between modesty and possibly arousing suspicion from Slytherin.

Her momentary hesitation was enough for Slytherin to notice. He stopped, but did not let go of her hand. "Rowena," his voice was an attractively deep whisper. "I know you must be surprised at me coming here. But it is very important that I speak with you right now, so forgive me if I overlook these relatively unimportant rules of courtesy."

Hermione sighed internally. So they were not having an affair–well, at least possibly not. She went on, warily, "Well, then Sir, please tell me what is so urgently important."

"Did my cousin visit you in this room after you came up here?"

"No, sir."

"Did anyone else come to see you?"

She took a breath. "Yes. A strange goblin. He painted my portrait."

"He did what?"

Hermione was not liking the panic in his voice. "Does that mean something...bad?"

Slytherin licked his lips and murmured something to himself. Then he looked up at Hermione and came closer to her. "Did he give you anything to drink?"

"Well, no. But an elf did come up here with something a few moments ago. He said it was from you, sir."

"From me? Did you drink it?"

"No, sir. I did not know if I should have trusted the elf." After her reply, Slytherin seemed extremely deep in thought. Hermione waited impatiently, but could not help bursting out, "What does all this mean, Salazar?"

She thought if maybe she called him by his first name he might tell her more. But Slytherin raised his head quickly in shock.

"You haven't called me that in ages, Rowena.."

Uh oh. Maybe that was a mistake, she thought, gulping. Before she realized it, she was sitting on her bed with Slytherin sitting next to her. She could barely make out his mouth in the darkness, but she knew he was smiling.

"Do not worry. All will turn out well." But the smile left his face."But first I must tell you what my cousin had planned to do. He has bragged to me about it a few time, let me tell you. My cousin has an insidious habit of conquering women. And not only in the, er, traditional sense. He chooses women with outstanding powers, because he has methods to transfer those powers from them to himself."

"But how? What...happens to them?"

"The first step is to paint a portrait of the woman he wants to steal the powers from."

Hermione could only stare blankly ahead of her in the darkness.

Even Draco had no idea how he was standing on his own two legs at the moment. Of course, they were aching like hell, but he was still standing on them. He still had no idea where he was because it was pitch dark. He was walking a bit to another section of the forest. His foot scraped against something hard and cold and when he looked down he saw an old engraving on a stone square. They had given his wand back and he flashed a light which immediately lit up the engraving: an elaborate and startlingly familiar M.

"We're...at _home_?" The thought unnerved him that he had been tortured in the very same forest where he grew up playing as a boy.

"Don't dawdle, boy," came Voldemort's high voice. "You have a lot of work to do, and the sooner you finish it, the better." Draco quickly started walking again and his father came up next to him. He had been keeping one step behind Draco the entire time and it disturbed Draco that he had not once looked at him directly ever since the Death-Eaters had tortured him.

"Yes, we're at the Manor, Draco," Lucius said in a low voice next to him. "It is the safest area.. For now." He seemed quite tense; not nervous, per say, (he had never seen his father nervous, now that Draco was thinking of it) but tense, as if in expectation of something. Draco could almost sense that the other Death-Eaters were sneering at them. He knew that the night was far from over, and it was probably going to get worse.

When they stopped walking, the Malfoy Manor was in full sight in front of them–stony, large, and imposing as ever. Inexplicably, Draco realized that the wind in the night air felt colder. The Death Eaters encircled Draco and his father, and Voldemort stood in front of them. Draco took in a long, deep breath.

"Draco Malfoy," Voldemort hissed, as he took off his hood once more, "step forward." As Draco took the step the rest of the circle closed in slightly. Voldemort continued. "Do you know why you are here?" He nodded. Voldemort searched his eyes for a moment, then continued. "Good. Then you know that you are about to begin the initial steps that will determine your entrance in what will be the most important aspect of your life after this moment. You do realize this?"

Draco nodded again. Voldemort replied, "Very well. One more thing before we proceed. You do realize, don't you, what will happen if you are not deemed acceptable into the Dark Order?"

"What?" Draco replied hoarsely, but deeply dreading the answer.

Voldemort twisted the corners of his white skin into a smile. "You will automatically be killed. We have already shown you too much, and without you in the Order, we cannot trust you with the information. Memory charms can always be broken. We cannot take the risk."

Draco nodded. Then it was already too late to back down. He had no choice.

"The first thing which must be tested," Voldemort went on in a business-like manner, "is the loyalty of one of my potential followers. This is the single most significant aspect of being a Death-Eater. Your loyalty to me must be unwavering and completely, utterly, and totally, absolute." A few Death-  
Eaters whispered at this. Lucius Malfoy shifted his weight from underneath his cloak. "No further allegiance must come between you and your Dark Lord, no matter how deep, how old, or how intimate it is. Is this understood?"

Draco nodded again. He fought the urge to seem nervous. Over the years he had become an expert at covering up his inner tensions, but now, even after all these years, it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Voldemort went on. "With that in mind, I have devised your first task. Take out your wand, young Malfoy.."

"So...so what do I do now?" Hermione said in a faint whisper–it was a strange mixture of tense fear and sadness.

"Your instincts in not drinking anything reveal your foresight, my dear, but in this case it would not have made much of a difference. It was in actuality me who sent that drink."

"It was?"

"The second stage of my cousin's plan involves giving the woman a love potion. It causes, the last time he informed me of it, an obsessive desire for the first person the victim sees after drinking the potion. She falls absolutely and utterly in love with him, and of course, reveals all her inner desires, her inner fears, and her secret accomplishments to him. The potion causes the woman's desire to increase as time passes, to the point where she feels she will do anything to please him. At that point, it is only too easy to get her to agree to the final stages of the process, which will deplete her of all her powers, and give them to my cousin."

"What are those final stages?"

"I"m not exactly sure. I have never personally witnessed my cousin carry out the process. Portraits are almost always taken of deceased witches or wizards, to preserve an incomplete duplicate of them during their lifetime. They leave a faint trace of themselves after they die. The final method involves that aspect of the portrait-making, but in a more sinister way. All I know is that it involves finally trapping the victim into her own portrait for all time, a faint imprint or trace of the living, breathing figure she used to be; the difference is that the trace is left before she was supposed to die."

"And the potion you sent? What does that do?"

"It counteracts the love potion and the further stages of the procedure. I sent it because I knew my cousin far too well. I did not want you to fall into his clutches."

"You knew he would do this? But you seemed surprised when I told you about the portrait."

Slytherin paused. "I was expressing my distress that my worst fear had come true." He leaned in closer to her. "I could not bear the thought of...losing you."

Hermione fell silent. The prospects of what Malfoy wanted to do her horrified her. When she looked away from the floor she realized Slytherin had gently moved his hand onto hers and was stroking her fingers with his own. They were rough, but had a warmth to them. She could not believe how tender he was. For a moment, she almost forgot who she was sitting next to. It seemed he truly cared for her–no, she thought, correcting herself. He cares for Rowena Ravenclaw. But it was still she who was in danger at the moment.

"So I should drink the potion now, anyway? What if the house-elf still did something to it?"

Slyhterin smiled. "I am absolutely certain, my lady, that it will be effective."He had a strange expression on his face. "But you may not need to drink it after all." Then he said, in reply to Hermione's perplexed look, "Rowena," he breathed, "you need to answer something for me once and for all."

Hermione held her breath. This was the moment where all her fears for time traveling seemed to be coming true.

"Rowena, you already know my feelings towards you," she opened her mouth, but he stopped her. "I know you are promised to Gryffindor. But that does not concern me right now. It is so vital, my darling, for me to know anyway. Rowena, do you love me?"

Hermione searched, wildly and frantically in her brain, for something to say. But her mouth was clamped horribly shut. She had never felt so indecisive in her life. Why had Ginny forced this onto her? When she finally opened her mouth, all she could manage was a rapid intake of breath.

Slytherin stared at her in an expression made more painful by the darkness. It took all of Hermione's courage to look up into his face, young yet mature, and audaciously handsome, his hair and eyes so mysteriously dark. His fingers felt strong and protective. They were so different from Ron's fingers, who were long and soft and gentle. But Ron seemed millions of miles, oceans and tidal waves away. But she forced herself to remember that she was impersonating a princess, trying to figure out what to say to a tall dark prince she had no business being so close to.

"Please do not ask me anything like that right now. At this moment in time, I have no right to give you an answer. Do not force me to, because I simply must not."

He replied, swiftly and sternly, "Then there is only one other way to find out."

He leaned in suddenly and clasped his lips onto hers. She was not surprised with him doing this, but more surprised that she did not pull away. She felt the warmth tingling from his mouth down to her neck and back. Some locked up chamber inside of her had opened up and refused to let her righteousness keep her from such an extraordinary experience. He had moved his fingers onto her cheek and was brushing her jaw line with them while his other hand moved around her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into her skin. Her nightgown was so thin she knew he was trying to feel her back through it with his hand. He smelled the clean scent of grass and the distinctive scent of smoked wood. He had parted his mouth a bit more and gently eased his mouth further into hers. His chest was touching hers and Hermione felt her hands instinctively move around his neck, but she knew she would be utterly lost if she did this. Instead of caressing him, she used her hands to gently push him away. Her mouth parted from with a small gasp. She still felt the taste of him.

"I can't do this," she whispered, terrified of looking into his face. "I simply can't." He studied her for a moment and then grasped her tighter, as if refusing to let her go anyway. She felt the strength of his arms around her and could only bury her head in the crook between his shoulder and neck. But she allowed herself this indulgence only for a moment. She squirmed out of his embrace and stood up, turning her back towards him. A clenched silence followed.

"I'm so sorry," she said, still turned away. "So very sorry."

"It does not matter," he said in a low voice. Strangely, however, it was not hoarse or cracking, like the sound of a person unwillingly giving up what he desired most of all. It was calm and slightly tinged with anger.

"Yes it does, Salazar," Hermione said, trembling. Finally she turned around. The moonlight lit up his face. The harsh sadness of rejection seemed to have softened and hardened his face at the same time. It was filled with a strange, despondent bitterness.

"I want you to do one thing for me, Salazar," Hermione said. "If you meet Ro–if you meet me again any time after this, I want you to forget this day ever happened."

"Rowena, you are speaking of senseless things. How can I forget? You want me try to win you over again only to be disappointed again? You love the chase, Rowena, but do not think of the capture. You cannot enter into something like this without willing to embrace and surrender yourself to it. That is what I do, but what you are mortally afraid of. And I am weary, Rowena, weary of putting myself through this torture."

"Listen to me," Hermione said desperately. "There is something you do not know–that you cannot know, but it is vitally important. Just forget about this night."

Slytherin stood up, revealing his full height. His figure blocked the moonlight from the window, suddenly making the room seem darker. "Rowena, this is the only time in my entire life that I have resigned myself to another force, that I have held myself to be weaker than something else. Now I realize I was mistaken. You have taught me that love is like war, Rowena. To get what one really desires, one must be just as merciless."

"Salazar please--"

"Please forget that you said no?" He shook his head. "It is harder to forget that for a single moment, you actually said _yes_."

Tears filled her eyes. She could not move. Slytherin, on the other hand, moved quite swiftly to the other side of the room, as if he were floating over it. He grabbed the goblet and brought it towards her. His tone became softer.

"I apologize, Rowena. I should not have been so imposing, but your refusal yet again to give me an answer threw me into a passion." He raised the cup to her with a tiny smile. "Drink this, and I will forget what has happened. Please, I implore you. This will ensure that you cannot be harmed by my cousin."

She wanted to take the goblet herself but he did not let if go. He tipped it onto her lips himself and she drank it, the sweet, vibrant liquid filling her mouth and pouring down her throat with an overpowering warmth. Then it felt like the waves of the drink brought with them a wave of swirling darkness. She did not even realize that Slytherin caught her deftly in his arms when she fell on the spot and gently laid her on her bed. He kissed her forehead. "Now it is only a matter of time, my love," he whispered.

Ginny hurried through the dark corridors. The torch in her hand sent fiery light over the walls as well as flickering, monstrous shadows. She past paintings on the walls of several gorgeous looking women. The paintings made the corridors worse, however, because all of the women were wailing and moaning in some mysterious agony or sadness, their voices echoing through the passageways like the cries of ghosts.

Ginny stopped to examine one of them and the subject of that picture immediately stopped wailing, followed by the others. The woman in the portrait was stunningly beautiful. Her silvery hair flowed like a thick ribbon of mercury and her deep blue eyes seemed to glow through the light of her torch like specks of the ocean that had somehow been trapped in the fire. Her lips were ruby red, richly dark and contrasting against her nearly ivory skin. She whispered in a feathery, haunting voice.

"Please, help me."

Ginny's eyes widened. "I do not know how. What happened to you?"

The woman sat back in her chair, despondent. "You do not know. The you must save yourself. Flee from this place. It is not safe for beautiful young women like you."

"Ginny moved her head back in apprehension. Suddenly, a silky voice cut through the darkness and Ginny immediately moved her torch toward it.

"Gwynn my darling, what are you telling her?"

The flames lit his face up but also sent shadows under his eyes and the to the corners of his mouth. But the platinum hair and cold eyes were unmistakable. Malfoy waved his wand and a green metallic plate seemed to mold itself over the mouth of the woman over the painting. She whimpered and tore at it in vain. All the other women in the paintings fell silent.

Malfoy smiled that disquieting, sinister smile which all Malfoys had when they were unusually pleased with something. "Ah yes. She was my greatest conquest." He smiled wider at Ginny. "Until now."

****

**Here are the responses to all those who reviewed the chapter before this one:**

**Mary anne**: I won't leave!! Hopefully u haven't left either. Thank u for the encouragement!! Its very..encouraging, lol. Thanks so much and I hope u haven't died already (LOL) waiting for an update (which are always so woefully late)

**Dismayed Critic**: You are not the only one who's getting really annoyed with Ginny. I'm gonna try and make her more into character from now on, and realize more of what u said. Hopefully she won't be so annoying and overly dramatic (but remember it's not just her, sometimes her dark powers even take over her emotions and personality). Yes, you're on the right track about Rowena and Hermione..more in the future. Hopefully the next time u check I'll have an update (or ull see this one!!)

**Polar Thestral**: Thank u for rereading. I was wondering if u were ever gonna post a new review (cause I love ur reviews) but I was elated that u read anyway just the same. Regarding Ginny, see the response above. You'll see her become more like her old self (or at least less annoying) Sorry if people were getting sick of her!! I wanted her to be more sympathetic in the beginning. But yet again, u analyze her wonderfully. Thank u for letting me know ur emotional responses!! That was really really nice to hear.

Paintings..Dorian Gray...I've read that awesome book and I put in my own little dedication to it, if you remember the name of the goblin who paints Hermione....Ur guesses are on the right track and are actually giving me some ideas (be very excited, lol). As for Draco, things will soon become much worse before they get better. I feel so bad, I always make him suffer in my stories :(

Oh and no, Ginny will not go through the faze, "Nobody loves me so I'll turn to Voldemort". That's a bit cliche and maybe even too simple for me, I dunno. I don't like it, so don't worry about it, hehe. But Voldemort will at least hope she will think that way. I hope she will not be as annoyingly moody, maybe a bit moody here and there, but for good reasons (which will come up later on)

I love it that u love Lord Malfoy!! You'll see much more of him in chapter 20. I haven't given him a name, because I'd rather not to if it's gonna sound corny, I hate it when people give corny names to original characters. Anyways, thanks for EVERYTHING!!! hope u update ur own amazing story soon, and I will keep on going with mine.

**Non Compos Mentis**: My reviewers have the most interesting names..altho I have no Latin training (its Latin right? Lol) Thank u thank u thank u that u are reviving this fic. I'll try to finish, but I always get caught up in delays, partly because every time I spend too much time on the computer people in my family get angry at me, I dunno why.

**Tessa1**: Yes! You like Ryan Gosling!! I love u!! And yes!! You like Cassie Claire!! I have been waiting for an update not for four months, but maybe over a year. I think she gave up on this trilogy, which is a shame, because it's a masterpiece.

Thank u for ur enthusiastic compliments!! I get soo happy rereading them (and then I must return to my drab life where no one knows me, lol) Lucius does care a bit, but the relationship will get more complicated in the next chapters after this one. Some Harry and Ron in this chappie, so hope u like it.

**Iced1**: Thank u for ur efforts to try and reach this story, I get amazed, I really do. I am keeping my mouth shut about all ur guesses because u are too smart for ur own good, lol. Hope u like the update!!

**Earth-guide**: Thank u for reading!! You are soo nice. When Hermione takes the potion....ooh lemme tell ya, I can't wait either, I am continuing this story partly so I can get to write those chapters...(evil grin)

**Badger:**Yay!! U made it back!! Does a happy dance, sometimes I hate myself cause I take so long to update that I lose awesome readers. I'll try harder to finish sooner!! I'm glad u like Slytherin, he's a great character. You don't like Draco? What have u been reading??? lol. It's great that I somehow aroused sympathy tho.

**KenKao4eva**: you know my cliffhangers.....it's when I indulge my evil side and hope people will come back for more... lol. Who WILL Hermione love? Ah, the million dollar question...

I highly doubt Rowling will use my plot, or at least the Herm/Draco plot, but I have a feeling Ginny will be Harry's love interest in the next books.

**Arduriel**: Thanks for explaining the name to me, and yes, I was a bit surprised to hear Ginny's real name, but also relieved, cause for some reason I did not imagine her as a Virginia. I like her real name better. You are an original reader?? YAY!!! If u review, even a couple of words, I won't lose hope!!

**Anastasia Ju-Bok**: Yes, I think that the girl in Spiderman 2 would be a good Luna, but she's a bit tall for her (nicely written movie by the way, strangely enough, I know, I've taken screenwriting classes)

To** Rachel, Elvenrarehunter, Anigen**, and all those who reviewed anonymously, Thank u for reading!! Lots of schnoogles to u all. Hope u enjoy the next updates!!


	19. It is Our Choices

A/N: First, I'd like to thank all my readers who have read my stories and supported me for so long, especially the ones who, despite all odds, still pester me to continue this story. Thanks so much guys. You are simply amazing.

**Chapter Nineteen: It is Our Choices**

It took all of her willpower for Ginny to keep from losing her temper. She knew the actual level of her anger towards Lord Malfoy would cause her to do things even more horrible than what she did to Draco. So she clenched her fists and teeth and tried holding in her anger without him noticing. She could actually feel the power arising from her anger now, like a rising mountain or a deepening chasm. The sheer force of it gave her a terrifying thrill, but she became even more terrified when she considered not resisting. However, the emergence of her old feelings of panic and concern for Hermione somehow helped her control herself, and it made her heart feel slightly lighter knowing that at least she retained some part of her former self.

While she stared at Malfoy, she said, in a voice which was only slightly forced, "My Lord, it is none of my business what a mere portrait on a wall says. I did not seek anything from it.She merely interrupted my walk."

Obviously, he was not convinced. "Then may I ask why a young lady such as yourself is roaming through the dark hallways during such an inappropriate hour?"

Ginny smiled. "I am sure it is just as inappropriate for a gentle knight such as yourself to be doing the same thing."

While her face relaxed, his face continually tightened. He replied, "I will remind you of your first statement, my lady. Whatever I do in my own house is my business alone."

"Ah, of course. Then I guess I should tell you what _I_ am doing roaming about in _your _house, my lord."

He bowed his head, expecting an answer.

Ginny gave a slight exhale of breath. "Well, if you really insist that I tell you in front of..." her eyes swept over the rows of portraits, all frightfully silent. She licked her lips before saying, "I was coming to see you."

Gwynn startled and moved around in her portrait to be even closer to Ginny. She struggled against the closures on her mouth. All the other women in the portraits looked just as panicky. Ginny gave a derisive smile.

Despite the inklings of a small grin, Malfoy's posture remained stern and his folded arms did not move away from his chest. He examined Ginny very closely and finally said, "Whatever your true intent is in these halls, you have found me. So now you must come with me."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"

She expected his smile to vanish, but it grew even wider. "Your spirit is a good sign." He moved in closer and firmly grabbed her arm. "I assure you, my lady, that I present you no harm." Now his smile was fiendishly gleeful. "In actuality, you will be quite delighted with what I am about to present, _if you so choose_."

* * *

Draco took out his wand from his robes. He was gripping it so tight his hand seared from the heat of the thin piece of wood around his skin.

"Your task," said Voldemort, "is to torture your father."

He turned to Lucius, whose head gave a start underneath his hood. Draco half expected his father to protest, but the other half of his mind knew better. He knew that the last thing his father wanted was him to fail in any task given by Voldemort, or even worse, to appear weak or inadequate in any way. Lucius said nothing to indicate any fawning acquiescence, but he still bowed to Voldemort and, removing his hood slowly, presented himself to Draco, standing straight and looking at him squarely in the eye.

Draco turned to his father, and finding no help in his features, looked back to Voldemort in a moment of wild doubt. Surely he was joking. Torture his _father_?

"You heard correctly, boy. Do you decline fulfilling this task? You know the consequences."

It was as if Draco couldn't move. His father's look was terrifying. It pierced through his soul and caused a painful feeling in his chest. It was as if he was daring Draco to obey Voldemort, to obey his command with as much dedication as possible. To torture him like no other person who had tortured anyone before.

Voldemort's pleasure at seeing them both was almost disgusting. It pervaded his voice like a disgusting syrup. "Perhaps the boy needs some help."

It was as if Draco's mind had been violently ripped open, and every awful memory involving his father suddenly hit him with as much force as if he was actually reliving those moments again and again. Every biting word, every lash of pain struck at him repeatedly. His head filled with the sounds of his own screams. He was seven and his father was hitting him with a silver flash of light which felt like a million swords into his body. He was nine and his father was slamming his palm in his face for spilling something on his father's new cloak. He was twelve and his entire body was aching with pain and rage from his first experience with the Cruciatus. He heard his mother running into the room crying for her son. He saw his father turning to her, tall and dark and looming. The tears in her eyes shone under the firelight...

Draco's head was pounding and his face was burning. He was gripping his wand so furiously, his palm was now bleeding,

"_Cruci!_" The green blast of light shot out and hit Lucius. He doubled over and groaned in pain. For Draco, the sight of his father crumbling before him, _because _of him, was beyond words. However, instead of feeling relief, the feeling of rage only grew stronger. It was flowing through his shoulders to his forearm and filling his hand. His fingers were now pulsating with power. He thought he was overcoming a force which he had thought was humanly impossible to overcome. He actually relished the exhilaration and for a moment all he wanted was to taste it again.

"_Crucio_!" He bellowed louder. Unadulterated hatred filled him. The green light hit his father again, and this time he fell to his knees. He wasn't screaming, but Draco saw the pain in his face, saw it in his clenched and bowed body, even in his disheveled hair, trembling over his face.

"_Crucio!_" he cried again, and this time his father was fully lying on the grass.

"_Crucio_!" he spat out. His voice had turned into something of a horrible and loathing growl. It was no longer recognizable as the voice of a seventeen year-old. This time the green beam of light which struck his father emitted smaller strings of light, which wrapped around Lucius's entire body like thin, tiny, gnarling roots. And finally, Draco heard it. He heard his father yelling, a hoarse and agonizing sound. He knew he might never hear such a thing ever again, a sound indicating that his father was in pain, that he actually needed something to take the pain away. However, the yelling stopped and was soon replaced by quick, raspy breaths. Draco knew what was happening. He knew how torture worked. Once the nerves were tortured beyond their limit, they just stopped functioning. The spell was now suffocating him. It was a bit like the effect of snake venom, now that he thought of it. No wonder he felt that all of this was part of the darkest magic he had ever performed. The power was making him nearly delirious. It seemed to increase every time he struck his father. Draco had never felt so powerful in his entire life. It felt like he could do anything. He could topple down the entire earth, if he wanted to. Then an awful thought filled his brain. Maybe he could start by toppling down his own known world. One more shot was all it would take...

He raised his wand. However, when he looked down, he saw that his own knees were on the ground. The instant he took his concentration off the rush of pure energy and strength flowing through him, he suddenly realized the toll it was taking on his own body. A sore exhaustion was creeping up on him and when he turned his head towards Voldemort he saw that Voldemort's own wand was raised as well, raised towards Draco. He had been helping Draco put the torturing curse on his father all along. He was so surprised that he let the wand fall from his hands, and as soon as he did so, his entire body became limp, as if his physical strength somehow originated solely from his wand. He struggled just to keep from falling flat onto the grass like his father. He felt like a complete idiot. He thought that perhaps this all was part of some horrific plan to kill his father and implicate him, his own son, in the process.

He felt something ice cold on his shoulder, and with a sick realization saw that it had fingers. Voldemort was holding his shoulder and actually helped him to his feet. Draco felt a sickening, artificial strength fill into his legs. After he was able to stand up his full height, Draco for the first time looked straight into Voldemort's reptilian eyes.

"Well done," Voldemort hissed.

"Will he--" Draco could barely breathe, let alone speak.

Voldemort smiled. "He'll live." Draco turned and saw a few Death-Eaters surrounding Lucius and then picking up his motionless figure. His father's incapacitation made Draco feel like he had been thrown into a different universe. He turned to Voldemort.

"What should really concern you," Voldemort continued, "is your abilities. You know you enjoyed the strength that was coursing through your veins a few moments ago." Draco tried hiding his surprise, but then his face twisted in anger.

"No," he breathed. "You were the one doing it. It was all you the entire time."

Voldemort gave a soft chuckle. "I merely opened you up, boy. I only gave you the privilege of tasting your own potential. The instigation was mine, but the rest of the power was yours, and yours alone." He walked closer to Draco. "I can help you fully realize what you can become, Draco. What you were _meant_ to become."

* * *

Lord Malfoy closed the door behind him and Ginny thought she heard the click indicating that the door was now locked. Her heart was pounding and she felt the heat rising on her cheeks. Malfoy turned around.

In the firelight she was able to retrace the resemblance he had to Draco. His skin was just as pale, just as smooth, and his nose and chin had the same sharpness. His hair, although considerably longer than Draco's, was the same color of platinum. However, she just couldn't help but instinctively link his appearance to Lucius rather than Draco. Maybe it was because Lord Malfoy was taller, with widely built shoulders, like Lucius. Also, it was because he had the sheer coldness of Lucius's eyes; Draco had not fully attained this feature yet, if only because of his inexperience in life. All she knew was that there was a quiet grace in Draco's movements, and even a mischievous quality to his scornful or contemptuous remarks, which made him infinitely more attractive than his ancestor.

He walked closer to Ginny and sat in a large armchair across from her. She was sitting on a rather large four-poster bed. The silver, satin sheets and elaborate fireplace all made it obvious that they were quite expensive. Two goblets full of some drink stood on a silver and gold covered table next to the bed. The small, arched windows were thickly covered with silver curtains. She wondered if this was his own, private bedroom. She had an ominous feeling that whatever happened in here, stayed here.

"Well," he said, easing comfortable into the chair, "you now have me completely to yourself." He smiled his disturbing smile. "We will not be disturbed here."

Ginny was silent. She had no idea what to do, her brain failed her when she tried coming up with a plan. She paused, then said, "You said you were going to present me with something?"

His smile widened. "Ah, of course. I was merely giving the lady an excuse to leave. I thought there was something which caused you to... _urgently_ seek me." He shifted his eyes and then brought them back to rest on her. "To seek me in private."

"Yes, there was." She paused when she saw the hunger growing in his eyes from expectation. She quickly continued, "But it was not of my own self-interest which brought me to you, my lord. It was the fact that you are obviously so closely linked to Lord Slytherin."

He did not try to hide his disappointment. He sunk back in his chair and it even seemed like he was skulking.

"Yes, he is after all, my cousin," he said peevishly, indicating that frequently he regretted that Slytherin was related to him.

"Then I must assume he holds you in his most trusted confidence. You know his feelings for my dear friend, Lady Ravenclaw?"

"Yes," he replied in a bored tone. He was staring idly at the wall, his arms crossed. His insolence was beginning to irritate her.

"Well, I wanted to beg a favor from you."

He arched his eyebrow in mild interest. Ginny continued. "I'd like you to persuade your cousin to desist in his efforts to gain Lady Ravenclaw."

He leaned back and said, a bit of teasing in his voice. "And why should I do that? She is quite wealthy, intelligent, and also beautiful. I suspect a match with her would be quite an advantage for him. And he is also foolishly in love with her, which is more than what can be said for many others who are courting a partner for marriage."

"But she is promised to someone else. And if Lord Slytherin continues in his pursuit, I fear he will gain a great enemy."

His startled movement surprised Ginny. "Who is she engaged to?"

"Godric Gryffindor."

He chuckled. "That buffoon? He would no sooner look at a mule than strike it with his sword if he thought it was challenging his so-called honor. No, he is a childhood friend of my cousin's, and he is much too naively righteous to realize any wrongdoing from his comrade. Besides," he said, moving his arms to the back of his head, "it is nothing which a duel will not solve. And my cousin is far superior with a sword, not to mention a wand."

Ginny got up from her seat and moved closer to him. "But my lady does not love Lord Slytherin."

"And she loves Gryffindor? Then she deserves to be miserable with either of them."

Ginny wrung her hands. "No, there is just so much you do not know. But it is important that Slytherin not increase his enemies. It will cause him to take desperate action in the future."

Malfoy immediately stood up. "And what makes you so convinced of this?"

Ginny looked away, and immediately she felt his grip on her arms. He forced her to look into his face. "The necklace--She has been traveling through time, has she not? Answer me!" When she kept silent, he roughly pushed her back onto the bed and pulled out his wand.

"You will tell me how to use that necklace."

Ginny's lifted her chin in defiance. "It is of no consequence what I tell you. Only she has the ability to use it, if she can use it at all."

"Insolent girl! You have no idea the power, or the influence I possess. If you do not obey me, I will make you obey by force. You will tell me everything you know--about the future, and about that necklace."

"I will do no such thing."

"And what is it that makes you so concerned in my cousin's affairs?"

"I am more closely connected with him than you know."

Malfoy merely stared angrily at her, his wand still pointed at her chest. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and then made a sudden movement, as if he had just realized something.

"Your eyes," he breathed.

"What about them?" Ginny said briskly.

"They were not that color when you came here."

It felt like her heart had suddenly disappeared. "Stop talking nonsense."

Malfoy bent closer to her, grabbed her by her nightgown and heaved her onto her feet. He brought her face closely to his and stared straight into her eyes. When she tried moving away, he grabbed her face with his hands.

"Do not insult me, girl," he sneered. "Your eyes were blue when you first stepped through my doors. Now they are brown. Why would you change the color of your eyes?"

"What does it matter? I disguised myself for my own protection because we were traveling alone."

He pulled her closer to him. His chest was touching hers and he grabbed her by the waist so tightly that his fingers were digging into her lower back. "I was never fooled by a woman's art. Your eyes have too much of a resemblance to my own cousin's. You are some sort of relation to his, which is very fascinating, because I know all of his relations, and I do not know you."

She tried pulling away from him, but he forced her back. "You know nothing about me, and therefore you shouldn't pretend that you do."

"I know more than you think," he snarled. "It is not so hard to put the two peculiar things together, the necklace and your eyes." Ginny felt the heat rise in her face. He continued, staring at her without blinking once. "I knew ever since you came," she felt his hot breath, "that there was something odd about you and your friend. It was as if..." he gulped, and she saw the muscles working in his throat, "as if you did not belong here."

"Of course we do not. We are not of this land. I _said_, we were traveling."

He smiled, shaking his head, amused at her pathetic attempts.

"What you are saying is madness," she was getting desperate and it showed in her voice. But she did credit him for being smarter than the spoiled high and mighty git she took him to be. She tried pulling away again. "I demand that you let me go this instant."

He laughed mirthlessly. "You demand of me?" But then his face suddenly hardened. "I am master of everything in my own house. You shall do as_ I _command."

He threw her down onto the bed again and pointed his wand a moment at her before crying, "_Imperio_--"

* * *

Ron closed his mouth slowly...very slowly. It had stood open for a few minutes because he had tried realizing what Harry mean and simultaneously felt that he shouldn't be realizing it–that he shouldn't even be thinking of such a plan.

"Everything?"

Harry's face was absolutely unreadable. Which was quite unusual for him, and which made Ron even more uncomfortable.

"Harry, you don't want–you don't want to go–"

Harry couldn't keep his face stone cold for long. Ron saw the heat rising in his face and tinging his cheeks pink. "What don't I want, Ron? What don't I want?"

"Harry, you remember what Dumbledore told you and Hermione in your second year."

"Yeah, so? But listening to Dumbledore hasn't always been such a great idea, has it?"

"Harry, do you have _any _idea what could happen? What you are risking?"

Harry looked at his shoes, his mouth screwed up with determination. He raised his head. "Ron, all I know is that when Sirius died, I felt like I lost everything. Like, there was this gaping, awful hole inside of me. And if I continued to live with it, it would slowly eat me from the inside out."

Ron walked over to him and grabbed him gently by the shoulders. His voice was low and comforting. "We all lose people we love, mate. That doesn't mean--"

Harry pushed him away roughly. "Don't you lecture me about losing people--"

"Harry--"

"_No_. You don't know how it feels. You have no idea. Who have you lost?"

"Harry, two years ago I thought my father had died. Do you remember that?"

Harry looked down; his voice lowered considerably. "Of course I remember."

"So I know how it feels."

Harry shook his head. "No you don't. You knew his life was in danger. But you never knew he actually died. It's completely different. And it's worse when you actually see it happen, like I did with Cedric. But it's even more worse when you don't realize fully what happened. When Sirius went through that...that goddamn veil...he just disappeared. That was it. So simple and so awful. I thought he'd reappear on the other side. But he didn't. Lupin screaming at me, saying that he'd never come back...it was worse than actually seeing him dead. I couldn't believe it...I couldn't for hours..." Harry's voice began to shake.

Ron tried in vain to calm him down. "I know, mate, I know."

"Don't you understand? You _don't _know. No matter how I describe it, you will never, never know until it actually happens to you. So you'd never really understand why I want to do this. Why I won't be able to live with myself if I don't."

"Why not, Harry? It's too risky..."

"Ron, do you know which two words are the worst words in the English language? The ones that haunt you forever?"

Ron crossed his arms. "What are they, Harry?"

"_What if."_


	20. The Exponent of Breath

A/N: First, I would like to thank all those who have read my story: those who have read in the past, those who are reading now, and those who plan on reading in the future. The readers on are the ones who have inspired me to continue with this story. After receiving reviews even after more than a year since my last update, I could do nothing if not continue. You guys truly keep me going.

To all those who have recently added my story to their favorites list: THANK YOU! But please, please, please review as well and give me feedback! It will encourage me and make me soo happy.

In this chapter: We um…see more of Ginny (and the readers are not the only ones who "see" more of her, wink wink) Voldie gives us a bit of insight as to why Draco will be important in this story ( and no, it's not only because of how "hot" he is, lmao) and Harry and Ron realize they don't ever want to go to the prefect's bathroom again….(read to find out! Hehe).

From _Part 3: Love_

_XXXVII_

_Love is anterior to life_

_Posterior to death_

_Initial of creation, and_

_The exponent of breath_.

Emily Dickinson

**Chapter Twenty: The Exponent of Breath**

It was a strange moment which left Draco uncomfortably indecisive. Here was Voldemort, staring at him, his slit eyes penetrating his every thought, his wand still raised but no longer pointing at him; all this while he saw the surreal image of his father's limp form being carried by several Death Eaters in the background. He didn't know how to accept this so-called destiny that Voldemort was throwing on him, like an overly large, ugly cloak that would hide everything and be clumsy to walk around in. He might even be bullshitting me, Draco thought. I bet he says that to everybody, like a bad pick-up line.

Voldemort's thin lips, if the harsh lines around the opening that was his mouth could be called lips, curled into a disgusting smile.

"Yes, I do mean it. You have been chosen for great things, young Malfoy. Things that I know your father would be too incompetent to fill. Yes, despite everything he has told you, you are in some ways, even more powerful than him even now. Under my wing, imagine what you will become in a few years."

Draco knew that sometimes the best thing to say was nothing. But he wasn't sure if this was one of those times. Luckily for him someone else asked what he was afraid to ask.

"How, my lord, how is this possible?" growled Nott from underneath his hood. "Why pick the son of a traitor?" Draco imagined Nott's, son, Theodore. He saw his solemn and depressed, dark eyes, always studying and hiding under his straight, black hair. He thought how ridiculous it would be for him to lead the future generation of Slytherins.

"I am not the one who has chosen," Voldemort replied, "it was Slytherin's daughter who chose."

Shit, shit, shit, Draco thought. He didn't want to get further involved; he had already been near death twice because of her. He tried holding them back, but images of Ginny flashed through his mind. He saw her panting, her cheeks brilliantly pink, her shirt unbuttoned, revealing her white cotton bra. "I want everything to do with you," her voice echoed in his head. He wanted to protect her, but he also didn't want her the same way she wanted him. Even while she was kissing him, he had pictured kissing someone else in his mind. He tried not to think about letting her down, knowing that Voldemort could read minds.

"But how is he more powerful?" Thankfully, Nott's questions broke his train of thought.

"Besides being more cunning than his father, he has, somehow, knowledge of something that his father never had. Knowledge that is Dumbledore's only weapon against our Dark Arts. He understands it better than any of us ever have, including me."

Draco tried not to look like he had no idea what Voldemort was talking about. Voldemort turned his fiery eyes back to Draco.

"He has this knowledge through experience. He has felt its power before. He is, in fact, feeling it right now, as we speak."

* * *

Ginny felt like her heart was being gripped by a vise. Malfoy's mouth twisted in pleasure. She tried fighting it, but she knew he could see it in her eyes. The struggle, the slow, agonized yielding. He spoke calmly and slowly, but the smile never left his lips. 

"Tell me how I can use that necklace."

She was furiously struggling against her own mouth, but an overwhelming force made her open it. It was much stronger than anything she had encountered before, even though she had trained with Harry's group a few years ago against the Imperius curse. He must have been an expert at this.

"Y-you need to turn it seven times. But not everyone can use it."

"Then you will do it for me."

"I can't."

"Then who can?" She closed her eyes, concentrating every particle of her strength on refusing him and for a moment she succeeded. Her mouth remained shut. But he raised his wand higher and shouted, "Answer me!" A fresh burst of energy yanked her mouth open once more.

"Only Her-----R-Rowena." At least she was strong enough not to betray everything.

His tone became softer, but his voice still tore through her. "Well, then we shall give your friend a little visit, shall we?" His revolting smile returned to his face. "But not before I have a little…_amusement_."

His concentration had faltered, allowing her to spit out, "I will never be your plaything." Suddenly the invisible grip around her body increased tenfold.

"Oh you will be more than that, my dear," he said, trailing his fingers along her cheek, and then moving them down slowly to her neck, where they finally rested on her chest, now heaving from her internal struggle. "You will cater to my every wish…you will be my slave."

* * *

Suddenly Draco realized what Voldemort meant. 

"He knows love," Voldemort replied bluntly.

It was difficult to read Voldemort from the tone of his voice. He didn't sound repulsed by the fact he just mentioned, but he of course did not say it with the tenderness that people usually reserve when speaking about love. It was a clinical tone, like a doctor speaking of a disease he never experienced himself.

So he can even read my unconscious mind, Draco realized.

"Love? That's an indulgence for the weak." Nott replied.

"It is the only path to undermining our power. It is an unavoidable property of Dark Magic, because Ancient Magic has always favored duality, always maintaining that one cannot retain power without sharing it. Of course, we refuse to accept this, but our ignorance of it is our only weakness."

He looked to the other Death Eaters. "But this boy," he said, "he understands."

* * *

Ginny desperately wanted to tear her eyes away from Malfoy. She found Draco so alluring, how was it possible that his ancestor could be so menacing? His cold, cold eyes, his sneer, even the nail on his finger resting on her soft skin—she could not think of anything more revolting. His invisible grip on her was unyielding, and the more she struggled, the stronger it became. Her desperation was mounting. 

His other hand went to her hair. He played with a thin piece of it, his eyes never wavering. "Now, I want you to lick those beautiful red lips."

Slowly, Ginny felt her tongue, traitor that it was, slightly slipping out, gently going over her lower lip. Despite herself, she rubbed both lips together, spreading the moisture, making her mouth slightly shinier, tinting it with more pink. Malfoy's lips parted and he was breathing through his mouth. He leaned in closer and put his lips on hers. Her protests were silent and ineffective. Ginny was a bit surprised at how gentle he was. He wanted to take his sweet time and enjoy himself, the bastard. For a moment she felt as if her body was not her own, that she was a mere spectator, because she had lost all control. But then she felt his tongue, which blasted a fresh wave of fury. Her mouth squirmed.

Malfoy responded by clamping harder with his mouth and the hand which was playing with her soft hair moved to her waist and he pushed her down to the bed. His other hand began stroking her chest.

Ginny fought harder. No, this was not how things were supposed to be. Not at all. Her first time should not be like this. She would not be taken over. It was impossible.

With a huge effort, she managed to move her mouth away from his.

"No!"

He gave her a brief glimpse—she saw his hungry eyes—before he shouted, "Silence!" Her mouth clamped shut. His lips moved to her neck. His fingers were squeezing harder, they were hurting her now, and to her horror she saw his hand moving to the bottom of her nightgown.

She tried moving her legs and torso, because his hands had reached her thighs, he was rubbing them slowly, going higher--and higher. Her eyesight grew foggy because of the tears welling in her eyes. She felt the heat rising dangerously throughout her whole body. Her vocal cords were not responding, they were horribly clamped shut, so that when she managed to open her mouth, she could only breathe out with a whimpering gasp.

He heard her gasp and stopped for a moment, looking at her. For the first time, there was color in Malfoy's cheeks, and life in his icy eyes. He had felt her searing heat. He smiled once more.

"You fight me, but your body gives you away, my sweet. It is burning with pleasure."

The tears spilled and Ginny wildly shook her head.

His voice grew dangerously low. "Take off your nightgown."

Her heart pounded until she thought it would explode. All she could do was furiously think, _No, No, NO_. She felt her fingers moving toward the bottom of her dress and she fought with all her strength, causing them to shake madly. Malfoy merely stepped back and stared with a satisfied expression. She knew she would tear his eyes off if she could move her fingers towards him.

Her fingers had grasped her skirt and they were moving it upwards. He gently helped them along until he had slipped the gown off entirely. She was completely exposed, except for the soft, white undergarments around her waist. The moonlight seemed to gently caress her breasts.

Malfoy started at her for the longest and most terrible two minutes of her life. She knew he liked what he saw, although the traces of it were barely visible on his face and...elsewhere. He sat on the bed next to her and gave her a long kiss on the cheek and then another one on her neck. It was almost tender. She admitted, with disgust, that he was a good kisser and realized why the veelas liked him. Her hands were trembling and the tears would not stop.

"Take off my clothes," he whispered in her ear.

* * *

Harry sat down on the floor of the Great Hall, next to the rest of the Gryffindors. Some were asleep, many were whispering worriedly. He looked over to the Slytherins. Malfoy was gone. 

He looked back and saw Ron, his eyes concentrated on him. He didn't like the stern look he was giving him. "What's the matter? You've been staring at me this whole time."

"Notice that Malfoy's gone too?" he said, his lips clenched.

"Yeah, so?"

Ron grabbed him by the arm and led him out of the Hall. A tall Ravenclaw prefect standing near the entrance stopped them and eyed them suspiciously.

"Where d'yeh think yer going?'

"Right. We're going to the loo. Be back in a moment," Ron said hastily.

"You can't leave the Great Hall. Dumbledore's orders."

His ears red, Ron gave a brief look at the prefect before gruffly grabbing his shirt and pulling the boy up to him, face-to face.

"Listen, we're stepping out and we'll be back. Alright? I'm a prefect too."

Suddenly the terrified look disappeared from the prefect's face. He grinned broadly.

"Aha! I knew it. The rumors are true!"

Ron let go of his shirt in surprise. "Knew what?"

"I knew you two were too matey to be just friends."

"What?" Harry gaped.

"You're going to the prefect's bathroom together, aren't you? That's what they all do in the middle of the night. And tonight, when all the teachers are busy with the break-in. Pretty clever."

Harry stepped forward, "Now wait a minute--"

The prefect drew in closer and looked around warily. "Shh! Can you do me a favor? When you get there, can you tell Robert not to wait up? McGonagall put me on guard duty." Harry remembered to close his jaw, which had opened in shock. On the other hand, Ron managed to open his mouth

"But--"

"I'm sorry, mate, I just can't." His smile grew into a sneaky grin. "Now don't you two think you could've joined us. We're not like _that_, you know. But you two go along. Always glad to be of help to a few mates. And don't worry," he winked, "your secret's safe with me." He lightly pushed them out the door.

As they walked out from the Hall, Ron looked back incredulously. "Can you believe that?"

Harry shook his head. "I think he just pinched my arse."

* * *

A/N: Haha, thought I'd end with a light note, because Ginny's scene is soo terrible! What will happen to her? What kind of plan does Harry have with the Time-Turner? and what about Hermione? (No, I haven't forgotten about her!) If you want to know as quickly as possible, then REVIEW!!! (Each review will make me finish one day earlier, hahaha jk...or am I? Don't take chances! Review!) And thank you very much, from the bottom of my heart, for reading. :) 


	21. Departure

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back! Sorry it took so long! Thanks so much to everyone who is reading. If you like my story enough to put me on your favorites list, then please, please, please review as well. I sincerely take all feedback into account, and it has happened where people's comments and suggestions have actually inspired me to add new things to the fic or take it into a different direction. I appreciate all of your support and thank you again for reading!! I love you guys, and the reason why I have continued writing is for you.

The following poem was just too perfect :)

_**Remember**_

_Christina Rossetti_

_Remember me when I am gone away,_

_Gone far away into the silent land;_

_When you can no more hold me by the hand,_

_Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay._

_Remember me when no more day by day_

_You tell me of our future that you plann'd:_

_Only remember me; you understand_

_It will be late to counsel then or pray._

_Yet if you should forget me for a while_

_And afterwards remember, do not grieve:_

_For if the darkness and corruption leave_

_A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,_

_Better by far you should forget and smile_

_Than that you should remember and be sad._

**Chapter Twenty-One: Departure**

Ginny felt like every inch of her body was on fire. She thought that she was hallucinating because she swore that the tears streaming down her face were sizzling. Her breathing had become labored and erratic, while the look in Malfoy's steely eyes was getting ravenous.

"Do it," he sneered and Ginny's fingers slowly rose to his shirt, feeling its cursed softness, slipping it off slowly, revealing his smooth skin. Malfoy took her hand and guided it across his chest. She felt his heart beating—it was a strong beat that coursed right through her. Suddenly he moved his mouth onto her lips and she felt his tongue invading her mouth. She fought until she forced her teeth to clamp down.

Malfoy moved away, a thin stream of blood trickling from his lips. He wiped it off with his tongue with relish. He gave a devilish grin and then moved his mouth elsewhere—to her breasts.

"No!" she managed to gasp out but that was all she could do, her heaving chest actually made it easier for his mouth to reach her. He started off gently circling with his tongue but then he started handling her body with his hand and mouth with increasing roughness until all pretenses of tenderness disappeared. Her body was protesting in pain. He moved away momentarily to grab her and lie her down completely on the bed as he climbed on top of her with a grunt. A flash of lightning showed the beginnings of bruises and teeth marks on her neck and chest. She could definitely feel the hardness through his pants on her groin. No_, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, Oh Please God No_, she silently pleaded. Her anger rose and rose, the heat growing unbearable. She tried fighting, but it seemed as if his passion increased the magical clamp on her body stronger.

To her horror, he saw his hand moving to her undergarments. She mustered every ounce of her energy to fight back, even if it seemed futile, because despite everything, her arms and legs would not move. His fingers were digging through the cloth until she felt his cold skin on her own burning skin. She froze for a moment because—was that a wince? She saw Malfoy retreat his fingers for an instant as soon as they touched her. But he took advantage of Ginny's momentary relapse and before she could realize it, his fingers were inside her---

It all happened so fast that at first Ginny thought her rage had destroyed the entire castle. She heard a roar and a burst of a power that she could only describe as complete and utter fury. She pushed Malfoy with her legs and he flew about fifteen feet away until he crashed into the large mirror behind him. Then Ginny realized that not only was she screaming, but Malfoy was also hollering with pain. The mirror shattered into tiny, pieces, sparkling as they fell through the moonlight. When they settled, Ginny saw Malfoy on the ground, still yelling in pain and looking at his hands—which were severely burned, in some places to the bone.

Ginny froze to her spot, and she noticed that the sheets around her were charred black. Internally celebrating the fact that she was now able to move with complete freedom, she flew up and grabbed her nightgown from the floor, but before she could throw it over herself she saw a tall figure rumbling on the staircase and emerging through the doorway. She pressed the nightgown to her chest to cover herself.

"Ginevra!" her heart almost stopped as she heard her father calling her name for the first time in her life.

* * *

Lightning flashed, dangerously illuminating Voldemort's deathly pale skin. Draco felt sick. All his life he had been taught to hide his emotions, to treat them as a humiliating secret that nobody should be aware of, especially those in power. Knowing that Voldemort, of all people, knew of the deepest and darkest weakness of his heart made him want to vomit. He knew his feelings would inevitably be used to slither his own heart. Voldemort had done that to Potter countless times. 

"Well then it seems Lucius has failed in raising your so-called prodigy," growled a hooded figure.

"It is not Lucius's fault. Perhaps his mother's coddling has turned him vulnerable to it. But we must not despise it—we must see it as a fortunate accident."

Draco had memorized every curve and twist of the blades of grass at his feet. Voldemort swiftly approached him and tilted his chin towards his slitted eyes.

"Tell me, young Malfoy, what power do you have over Slytherin's daughter? What does she feel for you?"

Draco fought it, but he couldn't help the instinctual flash in his brain of Ginny, half undressed, entreating in a gasping whisper, "I want you to do…I want everything to do with you…."

Voldemort stepped away, a smile of satisfaction on his twisted face.

"The boy didn't answer, what impetuosity, my Lord!" Zabini exclaimed.

Voldemort turned to Zabini and answered in a slithering voice, "He has given me the best answer possible."

* * *

Harry ran through the dark corridors, Ron at his heels. He stopped and pulled out his map, using the tip of his wand for light. 

"Malfoy's not anywhere!"

"He couldn't have gone so far away from Hogwarts."

"He must have apparated!"

Ron was trained well. "You can't apparate—"

"Don't you think that maybe the castle's defenses have been broken? Why do you think Dumbledore wanted everyone in the Great Hall so the teachers can keep an eye on all the students!"

"So you're saying we should try and---apparate?"

Harry furrowed his brows. "Maybe."

"But if the defenses are still up…and we apparate…"

"But you said it yourself, what about Ginny and Hermione?"

"Harry, you're not making any sense. We don't even know where to apparate to!"

"Malfoy's gone…where do you think the slimeball has run away to?"

"I don't know…wait!"

"What is it?"

They saw a dark figure crawling toward them, making gurgling noises. Ron and Harry raised their wands.

* * *

Slytherin looked truly frightening. His eyes flashed as he stared at Malfoy, who had managed to stand up. He winced as he picked up his wand. His face contorted in agony as he raised it toward his cousin. Slytherin looked up and down at Ginny, taking in her bruises, her tear-strained and flushed cheeks. He took a step inside the room. 

"How dare you touch her..."

Ginny hurriedly wore her nightgown in complete mortification , but after that she couldn't bring herself to move. She somehow knew that Malfoy was no match for her father in a duel—her _father_, the thought of those two words jarred her to the soul.

"This is my house, you have no business to interfere. What concern is it to you what I do with the girl?" Malfoy growled through his grimaced lips.

"Enough for me to take your life."

A flash of beautiful green light threw Malfoy back once more, his wand flying across the room. Slytherin's skill with a wand was even more impressive than with a sword. Malfoy tried to get up but it seemed that Slytherin's spell had done more than just throw him back. Every movement seemed to cause him pain, until he finally collapsed to the ground . Slytherin was on top of Malfoy in a flash, his wand poking at his throat.

"I will torture you until you beg me to kill you."

At first the sight of Slytherin had elated Ginny. But then as she saw his wand digging into Malfoy's neck, his eyes now widened with terror, she realized—flashes of Draco flew through her brain, him leaning on the table, wearing his black turtleneck sweater, her kissing him, him holding onto her thighs.

"No!" she cried.

Slytherin turned. He looked angry with her, and it took her back for a moment.

"He deserves to die, look what he tried to do, have you no pride?"

"No, you don't understand! He….he…" She had no idea how to explain.

"Don't tell me you wanted this piece of filth--"

"No! But there is…someone…in the future…whose life depends on…him." Ginny felt the tears welling up once more. The thought of losing Draco had pushed her to the brink. She couldn't breathe properly.

Slytherin stared at her, looking a bit incredulous, searching her every movement. He looked back at Malfoy. His neck was bleeding where the wand was digging into his skin. Malfoy was too scared to even move.

"This someone…who is he?

Ginny laughed unconvincingly. "I-I never said it was a he…."

Slytherin's eyes never left her face. She knew that she was too nervous to hide it. She wasn't a perfect Slytherin yet. Her father's features slackened a bit.

"You have… feelings for this….person?" Ginny nodded, and it was strange how she felt a bit ashamed. However, he had understood more than she had even hoped.

Malfoy looked puzzled, but then a disgusting smile crept onto his face. Slytherin made a swift movement with his wand and a flash later, Malfoy was unconscious.

"No!" Ginny cried, falling to the floor. Slytherin stepped toward her and took her hand, helping her get up. He looked at her once more.

"He's not dead. I will spare him, but I will ensure he is punished nonetheless."

Ginny closed her eyes in relief. The tears were still flowing. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Harry…." The figure sputtered.

Harry moved his wand toward it, illuminating a bloody and badly bruised face.

"Neville!"

They rushed to him. He had been beaten terribly.

"What happened?" Ron tried picking him up, but Neville winced and was unable to stand.

"D-death Eaters."

"Here? In the castle?"

Every word was costing Neville some effort. "They w-wanted information. I wouldn't tell them. Th-they were looking f-for… M-Malfoy. "

"What? Why?"

"They mentioned the M-Manor, and his f-father." Harry and Ron gave each other a look.

"Then what?" Harry's eyes had a strange look to them, as if he had forgotten about Neville's pain and all he wanted was information.

"Th-they disappeared."

Harry grabbed Neville's robes. "Neville! Did they apparate?"

It took him a while to catch his breath. Finally, he gasped, "Yeah."

* * *

"Where is my father?" Draco was struggling against the painful grip of an especially large Death-Eater. 

"He's in his chambers. Don't worry, your precious father will survive." Zabini didn't look happy as he said this.

"I want my wand back," he demanded. Zabini merely gave him an amused smile. Draco tried to punch him but Crabbe twisted his arm and he grunted. Draco didn't allow himself to show anymore pain than that.

Zabini opened a door which Draco immediately recognized. Crabbe shoved Draco into his own room, the one which had served as a type of prison cell for so many occasions before. The door slammed with a booming echo. Draco didn't even bother trying to open it—he knew it was locked. He rubbed his arm and muttered a charm that eased the pain. After pacing for a few minutes, which frustrated him even more, he threw himself on his bed.

* * *

Ginny and Slytherin were hurrying up the stairs towards Hermione's room. Between breaths, Slytherin said, "Ginevra, you and Rowena need to leave immediately. I'm not sure how long it will take my vile cousin to regain his senses." It was hard for Ginny to keep up with Slytherin, but his warm fingers around her hand gave her a rush of affection. When they finally reached the top of the stairs, he stopped, turned to her, and put his palm to her cheek. 

Ginny smiled, but then she twisted her lips in embarrassment. "I need to tell you something." She struggled to keep looking in his eyes.

"That girl in the room…is not Rowena Ravenclaw." Slytherin's hand left her face. For the first time, he was unable to look at her.

He shook his head and then looked up, his temper rising. "Who is she? You made me make a fool of myself in front of that girl!"

Ginny's lip trembled. It was like her entire world depended on the opinion of this young man who was not much older than she was.

"She is my friend…she's from the future."

"Is she a Ravenclaw?"

Ginny's cheeks were burning. She tore her gaze away. "No."

"Who is her father?"

Ginny shook her head. "He is a muggle."

Slytherin was yelling at her now. "How dare you consort with Mudbloods!"

"Please! You don't understand, she's the smartest witch of our age, she's amazing--"

She stopped when she saw the strange look on her face. "Perhaps she is not completely muggleborn. She looks just like Rowena…perhaps one of her ancestors…" he forced himself to stop his train of thought. "You both must leave as soon as possible. Go to your—friend and go back to where—_when_ you… belong." He held her shoulders and looked with an expression that made her want to cry all over again.

"Come with us."

He looked at her, and she could tell the tenderness rising in his eyes. Then he looked at the door, biting his lip, and looked back at her.

"No, I could never do that."

"Why not?"

"Your friend—make sure she does not see any man before she finds the antidote."

"What?"

Suddenly a loud boom shook the walls. Slytherin looked at her intently.

"There is no time to explain! Just tell her that I will find the antidote and hide it in the Manor. She will understand."

"No! I won't lose you again!"

Another boom shook the banisters. He squeezed her shoulders.

"No, it is not right. I cannot risk that she-- I must stay here. I will hold Malfoy off until you can leave."

"No!"

He shook her, his fingers digging into her skin. "Listen, my darling. You must go. There is nothing to be done. Do not worry. I know at the very least I will see you again on the day you are born." He kissed her forehead and she hoped that she wasn't imagining the fact that his eyes were shinier than before.

She drank in one last, long look, memorizing the lines and curves of his face, his hair falling over his eyes, his broad shoulders. She knew that whenever she needed strength, she would remember that very moment.

She ran through the door where she saw Hermione lying motionless on the bed. She heard a loud crash just outside the door and she knew Malfoy had reached the top of the stairs. Hermione's peacefulness seemed almost like a mockery in the chaos surrounding her, but the crash caused her to open her eyes.

"Ginny?" she muttered.

"Hermione! We have to leave! Now! Put the locket around me!"

They both heard Malfoy's voice, almost animal-like in its thirst. "Is the wench awake?"

Ginny heard Slytherin yell out and a flash of light illuminated the doorway. They heard another crash. She ran to Hermione, who clumsily slipped the Time Turner's delicate chain around her neck. She started turning.

"Hermione! Close your eyes and don't open them until we get there!"

"What? Why?" she said, still turning.

"Just do it!"

Hermione clamped her eyes tight and as she turned the hourglass for the last time, she grabbed Ginny tightly and the world suddenly became a whirlwind of color.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter: Finally, something happens that we have all been waiting for... 


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